CHUMS 


OR 


An  Experiment  in  Economics 


By 

D.   R.   C, 


Copyright,  1908 


MAIL  AND  EXPRESS  JOB  PRINT 
9-15  Murray  St.,  New  York 


ititiatpfi  to  fflg 


182-1538 


WORKEBS  IN  THE  VlNEYARD   ....  1 

AN  EXPERIMENT  IN  ECONOMICS      ...  31 

A  CROSS-SECTION  OF  LIFE 107 

FAMILY   GODS 149 

LIFE'S  GREAT  HIGHWAY      .  /    .      .      .      .  201 

THE  DIARY  OF  A  SHUT-!N  245 


EDITOR'S   PREFACE 


In  this  volume  of  contemporaneous  history  the  author 
presents  to  the  public  certain  messages  of  cheer,  sane 
wholesome  stories  of  a  number  of  living  women  and  girls 
who  have  met  and  overcome  various  obstacles  in  life — 
obstacles  physical,  financial,  social,  affectional.  The  so- 
lutions reached  in  the  stories  were  actually  reached  in 
life:  the  heroines  of  the  little  tales  are  living  heroines, 
with  no  melodramatic  notions  of  the  heroic,  no  interest  in 
being  exploited.  Yet  if  you  will  cultivate  their  acquaint- 
ance in  these  pages,  you  will  gain  a  new  courage  and  a 
new  interest,  whatever  your  life  may  be;  and  you  will 
feel  yourself  well  acquainted  with  some  of  the  most  in- 
teresting and  entertaining  groups  of  real  people  to  be 
met  anywhere  in  the  world. 

NOVEMBER  8,  1907. 

G.  0.  T, 


Workers  in  the  Vineyard 


HE  early  afternoon  sun  of  a  May  day  was 
pouring  into  the  work  room  of  Martha 
Farrish,  in  the  college  settlement  house, 
falling  full  upon  the  mass  of  flaming  red 
hair,  the  strong  face  and  square  ungrace- 
ful figure,  simple  gown  and  broad-toed 
shoes  of  Martha  herself,  as  she  sat  at  her 
desk ;  and  every  line  that  told  of  years  of 
struggle,  of  overcoming,  came  out  hardly  in  its  unshaded 
glare,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  dainty  figure  and  beauti- 
ful face  before  her. 

"Well,  you  promised,  Mart,  to  take  me  sometime  and 
I  want  to  go  now!" 

The  sound  of  the  soft,  imperative  tone  and  the  sight 
of  the  pretty  face  of  Belle  English,  Martha's  young 
cousin,  worked  its  never  failing  effect. 

"Very  well,  child.  But  I  am  so  tired  of  you  'society 
curious'  who  just  want  a  new  sensation,  who  get  it,  are 
impressed  for  the  moment,  then  go  back  to  your  world 
and  forget.  How  you  can  do  that  I  cannot  fathom.  To 
be  sure  Bessie  Gilbert  did  go  four  times  to  read  to  blind 
Lina  and  sent  me  a  check  for  a  hundred  dollars  last 
week  to  use  as  I  saw  fit,  but  she  is  the  only  one  who  has 
ever  done  anything." 

"Take  the  child  to  see  the  Potowskis,  then  to  see  the 
Duchess,"  advised  a  voice  from  the  further  corner  of 
the  room,  where  another  woman  sat  busily  sorting  over 
clothes. 

Martha's  face  brightened. 

"That's  a  good  suggestion,"  she  said.  "Very  well, 
Belle,  come  tomorrow.  No,  not  today;  you  are  not 
properly  dressed,"  with  a  glance  of  amused  disdain; 
"wear  the  plainest  clothes  you  have  and  no  jewelry." 


CHUMS 

"Why,  Mart,  this  is  as  simple  as  can  be,"  interrupted 
the  soft  voice. 

"Yes,  the  simplicity  of  a  hundred-and-fifty-dollar 
tailor  made  suit,  with  everything  in  equal  simplicity  to 
correspond. ' ' 

"Oh,  let  her  wear  her  prettiest,  it  will  do  the  eyes  of 
those  poor  wretches  good.  They  must  get  tired  enough 
of  the  sight  of  our  ugly  togs, ' '  again  came  the  voice  from 
the  other  corner,  with  an  admiring  tone  for  the  dainty 
brown  cloth  gown  and  rosebud  toque,  for  the  smart  little 
high-heeled  brown  shoes  and  suede-gloved  hands. 

Martha,  with  a  vexed  laugh,  was  caught  by  the  justice 
of  the  remark  and  said : 

' '  Very  well,  then,  but  if  there 's  a  mobbing  in  Kidder  's 
Alley  and  Belle  is  the  cause,  I  shall  have  the  satisfaction 
of  saying  '  I  told  you  so ' ;  however,  you  must  leave  your 
gold  purse  and  your  watch  and  pin  here." 

A  half -hour  later  they  found  themselves  in  the  "Al- 
ley," and  finally,  after  going  through  a  dark,  narrow 
tunnel,  came  out  on  the  small  paved  court  of  a  back 
tenement.  Belle  held  her  skirts  high  and  looked  a  little 
dismayed  as  they  crossed,  picking  their  way  between 
the  heaps  of  scattered  garbage  and  awful  litter  of  the 
place,  over  the  green  slimy  stones  and  up  two  rickety 
pairs  of  wooden  stairs,  whose  railing  was  a  greasy,  worn 
rope.  At  the  top  of  the  second  flight  they  stood  upon 
a  narrow  landing,  and  feeling  along  the  panel  of  the 
sagging  door,  Martha  turned  the  handle  and  they  saw 
a  low  ceiled,  dingy  room  with  one  window,  whose  light 
was  partly  obscured  by  having  three  of  the  six  panes 
filled  with  old  rags  to  protect  from  any  possible  letting 
in  of  much-needed  air.  They  were  greeted  by  the  hollow 
cough  of  a  woman,  half  lying,  half  leaning  on  a  low 
wooden  bedstead.  Other  furniture  the  room  had  none, 
except  for  the  machine  in  front  of  the  window  and  a 
soap  box  on  end  to  serve  as  seat. 

Gathered  around  the  woman  were  five  tiny  children 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

(the  oldest  but  six,  and  the  two  youngest  twins,  less 
than  a  year)  eating  their  lunch,  if  lunch  it  could  be 
called — some  yellow  Indian  corn  mush  and  bluish  milk 
which  their  mother  was  feeding  them  from  a  smoked  and 
handleless  saucepan. 

Belle's  face  paled  and  her  eyes  grew  strangely  large 
as  she  looked  upon  the  pitiful  scene,  the  first  of  its 
kind  that  she  had  ever  in  her  pampered  and  guarded 
life  come  in  contact  with. 

Martha  spoke  gently  to  the  woman,  at  the  same  time 
opening  a  basket  which  she  had  brought  and  giving  each 
child  a  well  buttered  roll.  Pouring  fresh  milk  into  a 
cup  from  the  bottle  in  the  basket,  she  took  the  tiniest 
of  the  twins  upon  her  lap  and  began  feeding  it. 

The  worn,  pathetic  face  of  the  poor  woman  lighted 
up  and  the  great  mournful  eyes  were  filled  with  thank- 
fulness as  she  said: 

''Ah,  Miss  Martha,  what  would  we  do  if  it  were  not 
for  you.  I've  been  so  bad  with  my  cough  that  I  have 
not  been  able  to  finish  those  last  vests"— pointing  dis- 
couragedly  to  a  pile  of  cut  and  basted  vests  resting  on 
a  newspaper  by  the  machine — "and  last  night  I  had  to 
send  Gita  to  ask  Mrs.  Malone  to  come  to  me.  I  thought 
I  was  dying." 

Martha  looked  pityingly  at  her  as  she  said: 

"Poor  dear,  if  you  would  let  me  send  two  of  the 
babies  to  the  Institute  it  would  be  easier  for  you." 

"No,  no,"  eagerly  retorted  the  woman,  sitting  erect, 
"I  shall  be  all  right  soon,  and  I  can't  let  my  babies  go — 
I'd  lose  heart." 

"Has  your  husband  still  nothing  to  do,  Mrs.  Potow- 
ski?"  she  asked. 

The  woman  shook  her  head. 

"Only  odd  jobs,  and  they  don't  hardly  pay  the  rent, 
and  he  gets  so  downhearted  he  keeps  away  most  times, 
but  he's  not  a  bad  man,"  eagerly,  "you  know  that,  Miss 
Martha,  only  his  luck  has  been  just  the  worst  kind." 


CHUMS 

Martha  nodded,  and  taking  some  tea  and  a  small 
package  of  sugar  out  of  the  basket  she  turned  to  Gita 
and  asked: 

"Will  you  see  if  the  Duchess  will  lend  us  her  kettle  if 
it's  boiling,  dear,  and  I  will  make  mother  a  cup  of  tea." 

The  little,  quiet  child  went  quickly  out  of  the  room 
and  soon  returned  with  a  small  teakettle  of  boiling  wa- 
ter, which  she  held  carefully,  and  Martha  put  some  tea 
to  steep  in  an  old  pot  and  gave  the  mother  a  great  cup 
of  it  presently. 

All  this  time  the  little  ones  were  being  fed  intermit- 
tently, like  so  many  hungry  little  birds,  and  Belle,  stand- 
ing on  one  side,  watched  it  all,  feeling  useless  and  help- 
less in  the  sight  of  this  misery,  while  Martha  went  on  in 
her  practical,  helping  way  until  even  those  hungry  little 
mouths  ceased  to  open  for  more,  and  the  mother,  warmed 
and  comforted  by  the  tea  and  help,  looked  less  pinched 
and  awful ;  but  the  smell  of  the  close  room,  the  disorder 
and  dirt  was  rapidly  becoming  too  much  for  Belle,  and 
Martha,  seeing  it,  said, — 

"Belle,  dear,  if  you  will  go  along  the  passage  to  the 
Duchess's  room  and  tell  her  I  will  be  there  soon,  I  shall 
be  obliged.  Here!"  giving  her  the  basket  now  nearly 
empty,  "take  this,  too,  I  will  straighten  up  a  bit  here 
first  and  then  follow  you. ' ' 

Blindly  Belle  did  as  directed  and,  stumbling  along  the 
dark  hall,  knocked  at  a  door  at  the  end,  which  was 
opened  by  a  little,  fresh-faced  old  woman  whose  abund- 
ant white  hair  was  gathered  neatly  up  on  her  head, 
whose  print  frock  was  spotlessly  clean  and  whose  small 
hands  were  busily  engaged  in  knitting  even  as  she  stood 
waiting. 

Belle  looked  at  her  wildly  a  moment,  then  around  at 
the  clean,  pretty  room,  saying, — 

' '  Oh,  it  was  awful !  awful ! ' '  and  burst  into  tears  and 
leaned  against  the  wall. 


WORKERS    IN    THE    VINEYARD 

"Yes,  dear;  yes,  dear,"  said  the  little  woman,  "come 
and  sit  down  awhile."  And  she  led  her  to  a  low  rocker 
before  the  open  window  and  gently  took  off  the  pretty 
rosebud  toque,  looking  at  it  in  rapt  admiration  as  she 
put  it  aside,  and  drawing  the  fluffy  head  to  her, 
smoothed  the  forehead  and  soothed  her. 

Presently  Belle  stopped  crying  and  looked  up  into  the 
kind  brown  eyes,  saying,— 

' '  And  you  live  here,  too !  Why,  one  would  think  the 
rooms  a  mile  apart  from  the  difference,"  her  eyes  wan- 
dering about. 

"Yes,  I  live  here,  too,  my  dear,  and  they  call  me  the 
Duchess,"  the  small  woman  answered.  "I  understand 
you  have  been  to  see  the  Potowskis  and  you  are  not  used 
to  such  sights;  poor  woman,  but  it  is  a  hard  case.  A 
good-for-nothing  Polish  husband,  who  pawns  everything 
she  buys  with  her  hard-earned  money,  and  leaves  them 
for  weeks  at  a  time  without  a  cent,  and  all  of  those 
pretty  babies  to  do  for.  Only  seven  years  ago  she  was 
a  handsome,  fresh  young  creature  and  they  had  a  nice 
little  home;  but  he  got  in  with  a  bad  lot  and  she  had 
her  babies  so  fast  that  her  health  broke  down ;  only  this 
year  since  the  twins  came  has  she  let  anyone  help  her, 
but  now  the  pride  has  broken  and  if  it  were  not  for 
Miss  Farrish  and  a  few  of  us  others,  she  and  her  babies 
would  be  worse  off  than  they  are,  if  that  could  be. ' ' 

Belle  looked  at  her  wonderingly  and  again  at  the 
pretty  room.  A  smile  came  over  the  face  of  the  old 
woman  as  she  read  the  thought. 

"Well,  dearie,  we  have  fixed  up  the  room  over  there 
several  times,  but  the  husband  always  pawns  everything. 
This  time  he  did  not  leave  even  the  stove.  That  is  why 
Gita  came  to  me  for  boiling  water.  I  suppose  the  only 
reason  the  machine  remains  is  because  when  the  poor 
thing's  cough  is  not  too  bad  she  can  earn  a  few  dollars 
with  it." 


CHUMS 

Just  then  Martha  came  in,  looked  keenly  at  Belle  and 
the  old  woman,  guessed  how  things  were  and  commenced 
brightly,— 

"Well,  I've  tidied  up  a  bit  and  washed  those  blessed 
babies'  hands  and  faces.  What  pretty  things  they  are. 
I  was  surprised  to  find  that  their  curls  were  clean,  and 
their  little  bodies.  That's  your  doing,  Duchess,"  she 
added,  smiling.  "Mrs.  Potowski  told  me  you  coaxed 
them  all  in  and  gave  them  good  warm  baths  and  their 
suppers  three  times  a  week.  Now  the  tubs  are  all  right ; 
water,  even  warm  water,  does  not  cost  much,  but  I  want 
to  know  how  much  you  have  spent  on  food  since  I  was 
here  two  weeks  ago.  That  part  of  it  is  my  work.  No ! ' ' 
as  the  old  woman  started  to  demur,  "I  can  do  this,  for 
I  have  been  sent  a  check  for  a  hundred  quite  recently  and 
I'll  use  it  for  them.  That  poor  woman,  I'm  afraid,  can- 
not last  long.  Then  it  will  have  to  be  decided  what  is 
to  be  done  with  those  cherubs.  Ah!"  with  a  longing 
sigh,  "would  I  not  love  to  have  them!" 

The  Duchess  laughed  and,  putting  a  hand  on  the 
broad  shoulder,  said, — 

"Vous  etes  une  vrai  femme,  ma  chere." 

Belle  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  in  amazement. 
Truly  this  afternoon  was  being  filled  with  experiences. 

"Well,  Belle  dear,  your  first  experience  has  been  too 
much  for  you,  I  see,"  said  Martha,  and  Belle  flushed 
and  her  lip  trembled. 

"Now,  Miss  Farrish,  don't  tease  the  child.  This  is 
her  first  sight  of  trouble,  I  am  certain,  and  that  is  a 
pretty  terrible  sight— not  to  mention  smell,"  she  added. 
"I  wonder  why  it  is  all  of  the  poor  things  are.  so  afraid 
of  fresh  air,  or  outer  air,  I  suppose  would  be  more  to  the 
point." 

Belle  asked  if  she  might  have  a  glass  of  water  and  the 
Duchess  said, — 

"Let  me  make  you  some  tea;  I  am  sure  Miss  Farrish 
wants  hers,  and  it  is  my  tea  time,  too." 

She  bustled  about,  set  a  little  table  with  a  pretty  tray- 


WORKERS    IN    THE    VINEYARD 

cloth  and  blue  and  white  china,  sliced  a  lemon,  and  boiled 
a  kettle  over  a  bit  of  charcoal  in  a  Japanese  Hebachi, 
saying,— 

"Now,  come  and  have  as  good  a  cup  of  tea  as  can  be 
found  anywhere,  for  this  tea  chest"— holding  up  a  small 
caddy— "is  filled  with  Formosa's  best,  my  one  extrava- 
gance. I  have  nothing  to  offer  you  to  eat,  my  dears, 
but,"  smiling  at  Belle,  "I  fancy  this  one  does  not  want 
to  eat  just  now." 

Belle  nodded  and  Martha  said  as  she  sipped  her  tea, — 

"Duchess,  you  are  a  wonder.  I  wish  I  had  your  intu- 
ition and  tact.  I  am  such  a  great,  blundering  thing. ' ' 

The  little  Duchess  patted  Martha's  hand  softly,  and 
said, — 

"Ah,  my  dear,  when  you  are  close  on  to  seventy  you 
will  have  many  more  good  deeds  to  look  back  upon  than 
I.  I  never  awakened  to  this  side  of  life  until  I  was  sixty, 
but  I  am  no  end  grateful  that  I  did  awaken." 

Belle  started  eagerly  to  say  something,  then  flushed 
and  hesitated. 

"Out  with  it,  my  dear.  Out  with  it,"  the  little  old 
lady  said,  but  Belle  only  shook  her  head  and  looked 
embarrassed,  so  the  Duchess  smiled  again  at  her  and 
began  to  talk  to  Martha,  giving  an  account  of  her 
various  commissions  for  the  Settlement,  and  checking  off 
from  a  fat  little  account  book  the  various  sums  spent. 

Belle  listened,  feeling  herself,  too,  awakened,  and 
wondering  if  she  could  ever  again  go  back  to  that  easy, 
joyous,  unthinking  life,  since  she  had  had  this  glimpse 
of  the  "other  side."  She  felt  as  though  every  pretty 
dress  and  bit  of  frivolity  would  seem  a  theft,  and  why 
such  women  as  her  cousin  Martha  had  found  it  impos- 
sible to  lead  empty,  useless  lives  she  now  realized;  in 
only  a  slight  degree,  however,  for  youth  appropriates 
as  its  own  the  gifts  life  holds,  and  the  charm  and  grace 
of  her  home  surroundings  were  only  what  she  had  al- 
ways known. 

As  Martha  and  the  Duchess  discussed  Mrs.  Malone's 


CHUMS 

rheumatism,  which  kept  her  home  from  her  charring  too 
often  for  hard  times  to  be  kept  away  from  the  Malone 
household;  old  Pat  Drogen's  bad  leg  and  worse  back; 
how  the  clothes  were  to  be  distributed  to  the  Finly  fam- 
ily; and  as  both  were  bemoaning  the  scarcity  of  funds, 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  In  answer  to  the  Duch- 
ess's "come  in"  a  great,  broad-shouldered  young  man 
opened  the  door  and  stood  in  the  doorway  completely 
blocking  it,  stooping  a  little  that  the  door  frame  might 
not  hit  his  head.  He  was  dressed  in  clerical  black,  with 
a  wide-brimmed  hat  held  in  his  hand,  together  with  a 
black  bag  such  as  physicians  carry,  and  he  beamed  in 
upon  them. 

Both  Martha  and  the  Duchess  rose  to  greet  him,  and 
Martha  introduced  him  to  Belle  as  the  Reverend  Dr. 
Holding.  The  broad  hand  grasped  Belle's  with  warmth 
and  cordiality,  as  he  said, — 

' '  Glad  to  meet  you,  Miss  English,  I  have  heard  of  you 
from  Miss  Farrish,  often;  making  calls  with  her  this 
afternoon,  or  only  a  call?" 

Belle  told  him  her  experience  and  he  looked  sympa- 
thetically at  her  and,  as  he  took  his  tea  cup  from  the 
Duchess,  said, — 

"Evidently  Miss  Farrish  believes  in  contrasts  that  she 
takes  you  on  the  same  day  to  see  the  Potowskis  and  our 
Duchess ;  sort  of  antidote  for  the  poison,  eh  ? " 

And  again  the  conversation  drifted  back  to  the  help 
this  or  that  one  needed,  and  the  ever-recurring  note  of 
self-abnegation  struck  in  all  unconsciousness,  but  struck 
and  struck  again,  startled  Belle. 

She  had  an  opportunity  to  look  at  the  big  missionary, 
without  his  noticing  it,  and  she  saw  with  admiration  the 
great  frame,  the  fine,  strong,  ugly  face,  whose  redeeming 
feature  was  the  mouth,  with  its  laugh  lines  and  its 
strong  white  teeth.  Here  was  no  delicate  divine,  but  a 
member  of  the  church  militant,  ready  to  fight  in  all  ways 
if  fighting  were  necessary;  strongly  tender  when  occa- 

8 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

sion  demanded,  and  filled  with  a  ready  and  understand- 
ing sympathy  for  poor,  weak  humanity's  trippings  and 
staggerings;  and  Belle  contrasted  him  with  the  men  of 
her  world,  not  to  their  advantage. 

Presently,  the  conference  ending,  Martha  said,  look- 
ing at  her  watch,— 

"I  must  just  look  in  at  Mrs.  Malone  a  moment,  then 
we  will  go  home. ' ' 

Bidding  adieu  to  the  little  Duchess  and  accompanied 
by  Dr.  Holding,  they  went  down  to  the  first  landing, 
where  they  said  good  bye  to  him.  They  knocked  upon 
the  door  of  the  room  under  Mrs.  Potowski  's,  a  voice  bade 
them  come  in  and  they  entered. 

A  red-faced,  kindly-looking  woman  of  middle  age  was 
sitting  at  the  window,  patching  a  garment.  She  rose 
at  sight  of  Miss  Farrish,  in  bustling  welcome. 

"Glory  be!  but  'tis  yourself  I'm  glad  to  see,  for  I 
have  news  from  my  Tim,  and  I  wanted  to  tell  you  of 
it." 

Martha  introduced  her  cousin,  and  Mrs.  Malone  gave 
them  each  a  chair,  and  after  seating  herself  again,  be- 
gan rapidly  to  tell  Martha,— 

"Now,  Tim  had  written  he  had  a  foine  job,  foine  in- 
toirely,  and  would  send  his  mother  tin  dollars  a  month, 
right  along  now,  and  in  six  months  would  be  able  to  take 
Mickey  with  him.  And  then,  with  Sadie  getting  three 
a  week  and  Neddy  four,  with  what  she  earned,  they 
could  do  finely.  As  to  the  little  ones,  the  creatures  was 
so  good,  they  was  no  bother  or  cost  at  all ! " 

Whilst  Mrs.  Malone  was  talking,  Belle  looked  about 
her. 

This  room  was  moderately  clean  and  tidy,  had  two 
turn-up  beds,  a  stove  in  the  fireplace,  four  chairs,  a 
table  and  a  big  chest  of  drawers,  with  a  tea  service  in 
florid  pattern  upon  it,  a  clock,  a  work  basket,  a  plush- 
covered  album,  and  an  image  of  St.  Joseph.  Altogether 
decent  and  comfortable.  Belle's  heart  grew  lighter. 

9 


CHUMS 

Surely  that  case  upstairs  was  an  exceptional  one.    There 
could  not  be  many  such  in  the  world,  she  thought. 

After  they  had  left  Mrs.  Malone  and  were  once  more 
picking  their  way  across  the  court,  Belle  told  Martha 
her  thought  and  Martha's  strong  face  saddened  as  she 
said, — 

"Wrong,  dear.  It's  the  other  way  about.  Mrs.  Ma- 
lone  is  the  exception,  that  is,  in  this  kind  of  a  neighbor- 
hood." 

When  they  reached  the  settlement  house,  Belle  said, 
breaking  the  silence  that  had  endured  since  Martha's 
answer  to  her  question, — 

"What  does  Dr.  Holding  do,  Martha?" 

"Do!"  her  cousin  answered.  "What  does  he  not  do? 
Works  like  ten.  Is  at  the  call  of  everyone.  Doctors  the 
sick.  Gives  his  time  and  strength  to  them  all.  Teaches 
in  the  evening  schools,  preaches  on  Sundays,  influences 
the  boys  to  take  up  trades  and  drop  rowdyism.  Gives 
every  cent  of  his  own,  except  what  he  needs  for  bare 
existence,  and  begs  from  his  friends  to  help  along  the 
cause.  He's  wonderful!"  with  a  sigh— "How  I  wish 
I  were  a  man !  There  are  so  many  more  ways  for  a  man 
to  be  of  use.  He  was  born  with  the  proverbial  silver 
spoon  in  his  mouth,  too,  and  might  now  be  living  in 
luxury  if  he  chose,  but  his  father  turned  him  off  when 
he  would  not  give  up  what  the  old  gentleman  termed 
'his  low  ideas',  and  has  never  seen  him  since.  About 
seven  years  ago  that  was." 

Belle  asked  as  they  went  into  the  room, — 

"And  Mart,  who  is  the  Duchess?" 

"I've  been  waiting  for  that  question," — Martha 
laughed.  "Well,  my  dear,  no  one  knows.  About  seven 
years  ago,  shortly  after  Dr.  Holding  came  into  the  work, 
she  took  that  room  she  is  in  now,  and  because  she  was  so 
clean  and  dainty  the  name  of  the  'Duchess'  was  given 
her,  and  has,  as  you  notice,  stuck.  I  believe  her  name  is 
Mrs.  Church.  She  has  a  tiny,  tiny  income  and  yet  keeps 

10 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

herself,  her  room  and  her  possessions  as  you  saw  them 
today,  and  is  always  doing  kind  services  and  actually, 
out  of  her  scant  means,  being  of  real  practical  help  in 
the  neighborhood.  Everyone  in  it  loves  her  and  she  is 
our  right  hand  in  distributing. 

Did  you  notice  her  books?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  they  are  in  French,  German,  Spanish  and  Ital- 
ian, each  of  which  she  speaks  fluently,  and  Dr.  Holding 
says  she  is  the  very  best  read  woman  he  has  ever  met, 
and  the  most  traveled. 

She  talks  quite  freely  of  her  'roamings,'  as  she  calls 
them,  but  never  of  herself,  and  no  one  has  ever  dared 
question  her.  I  have  always  suspected  a  romance — Oh, 
I  don't  necessarily  mean  a  love  affair,  at  her  age,"  with 
a  smile  as  Belle's  eyes  opened,  "but  a  romance  of  life;  a 
full  life,  a  rounded  life.  But  there,  child,  you  must  run, 
along.  Here  are  your  trinkets  and  I  hope  you  have 
satisfied  your  curiosity." 

Belle  took  the  little  gold  purse  and,  opening  it,  poured 
its  contents  on  the  desk,— a  couple  of  ten-dollar  gold- 
pieces,  a  twenty-dollar  bill  and  some  silver;  she  care- 
fully put  back  a  quarter,  clicked  shut  the  purse  and 
pushed  the  little  pile  of  money  towards  her  cousin. 

"You  are  to  use  this  for  the  babies,  Martha,"  she  said. 

' '  No,  no,  child.  I  can 't  take  your  money.  Your  father 
has  been  very  generous  to  us,  and  considering  he  thinks 
me  insane  and  all  of  us  fools,  I  must  add,  very,  very 
generous. ' ' 

Belle  insisted  and  was  so  hurt  and  grieved  that  Mar- 
tha weakened  and  put  the  money  in  her  drawer. 

"Well,  after  all,  you  can  spare  it,"  she  said,  "and  oh, 
my  poor,  poor  people  need  help  so  much. ' ' 

"I  am  coming  next  week  to  go  again,  Mart,"  Belle 
said. 

Martha  smiled  rather  unconvincedly,  and  Belle 
added, — 

11 


CHUMS 

"You  just  wait  and  see.  I  mean  it  and  I  am  going  on 
a  begging  expedition  between  now  and  then,  and  I  shall 
loom  up  burdened  with  spoils." 

Just  then  Mary  Tobin  came  into  the  room  and  asked, — 

"How  did  my  suggestion  work,  did  you  take  both 
my  poison  and  its  antidote?" 

Belle  and  Martha  both  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"Why,  that's  the  expression  Dr.  Holding  used,"  cried 
Belle. 

"Oh,  so  you  saw  him,  did  you?"  Mary  remarked,  with 
a  keen  glance  at  Martha,  who  had  turned  to  the  win- 
dow,— "Splendid  champion  of  the  Lord's,  is  he  not? 
Pity  all  of  the  Lord 's  workers  are  not  like  him. ' ' 

Belle  expressed  her  liking  and  then  told  of  the  after- 
noon and  of  her  breakdown,  over  which  Mary  laughed, 
and  finally  said  good  bye  and  left,  accompanied  by  one 
of  the  settlement  workers  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Stage. 

For  a  few  moments  Mary  busied  herself  at  her  table, 
then  went  over  to  the  desk  where  Martha  was  now  busy, 
and  putting  her  hand  on  the  broad  shoulder,  said,— 

"What  is  it,  honey?"  with  infinite  tenderness.  Mar- 
tha looked  up  affectionately,  then  laughed  half  grudg- 
ingly,— 

"You  are  such  a  spooky,  mind-reading  thing,  I  sup- 
pose I  can't  say  'nothing'  to  you  and  be  believed,  but  I 
am  a  little  ashamed  of  what  it  is,  and  so  if  you  don't 
mind,  chum,  I  will  not  '  f ess  up '  this  time. ' ' 

' '  Better, ' '  said  Mary,  looking  into  the  clear,  gray  eyes 
understandingly,  sympathetically. 

Martha  shook  her  head  and  Mary  said  no  more  on  the 
subject,  but  spoke  of  certain  interests  of  the  settlement 
and  presently  they  went  into  the  little,  bare  dining-room, 
whose  only  grace  was  its  exquisite  cleanliness,  and  had 
their  simple  meal,  the  usual  feminine  one  of  tea  and 
more  tea,  bread  and  butter  and  a  salad,  with  a  custard 
pudding  for  dessert. 

12 


WORKERS    IN    THE    VINEYARD 

When  Belle  reached  home  it  was  nearly  six  and,  as  the 
butler  opened  the  door,  she  asked,— 

"Father  home  yet,  Robbins?" 

"Not  yet,  Miss,"  was  the  answer,— and  Belle  ran 
lightly  up  the  stairs  and  went  into  her  room,  where  her 
maid,  a  sharp-faced  Frenchwoman,  was  laying  out  an 
evening  dress. 

"  I  '11  tub  first,  Janette. ' '  And  as  Janette  looked  down 
at  her  dress,— "You  may  send  this  to  the  cleaner's.  I've 
been  down  to  the  settlement  and  got  it  queer — it  smells 
funny,"  sniffing  at  her  jacket  as  she  took  it  off. 

An  hour  later  as  Belle,  in  her  pretty  lace  gown,  sat  at 
the  dinner  table  opposite  her  father,  whose  heavy,  hard 
face  softened  with  pride  and  affection  as  he  looked  at 
her,  she  told  of  the  afternoon. 

"Now,  Daddy  dear,"  she  said  coaxingly,  seeing  his 
frown,— "don't  scold,  Mart  didn't  want  to  take  me  and 
I  just  insisted,  and  no  harm 's  done.  I  have  told  Janette 
to  send  my  suit  to  the  cleaner's,  and  had  a  bath" — with 
a  laugh — "so  I  don't  bring  any  infection — besides  where 
the  settlement  workers  go  I  suppose  I  can. ' ' 

Her  father  brought  his  first  down  smartly  on  the  table, 
as  he  said, — 

"I  won't  have  it!  Belle,  I  won't  have  it!  It's  all  very- 
well  for  those  people  if  they  want  to  go  messing  about  in 
that  filth  and  rottenness,  but  you  sha'n't  be  inveigled 
into  any  such  nonsense.  I  give  plenty  to  charity  and 
they  are  free  to  spend  it  as  they  think  best,  but  I  won't 
have  you  going  to  those  places  and  risking  all  sorts  of 
dangers.  I  won't  have  it."  The  veins  stood  out  on  his 
thick  neck,  and  the  hard  face  looked  stony. 

"All  right,  Daddy  dear,"  was  all  Belle  said,  and  tact- 
fully turned  the  talk  to  other  things  until  she  had  re- 
stored his  temper  and  he  was  once  more  smiling  at  her. 

They  were  a  strange  contrast,  these  two,— she  such  a 
pretty,  soft,  almost  frail  girl ;  he,  broad  and  heavy,  with 
strong,  hard  face  and  potentialities  for  sheer  violence.  It 

13 


CHUMS 

was  difficult  to  believe  them  father  and  daughter.  Nature 
does  queer  things  ofttimes  in  her  human  soul  shuffling, 
but  in  spite  of  the  apparent  difference  between  these  two, 
there  was  a  wonderful  mutual  love.  There  always  had 
been  since  Belle's  very  earliest  remembrance, when, moth- 
erless, she  lavished  all  of  her  babyish  affection  on  this 
hard  man,  never  fearing  him,  even  when  his  temper  burst 
its  bounds,  always  demanding,  as  though  by  right  su- 
preme, his  love,  tenderness  and  companionship.  So,  as 
the  years  slipped  away  they  had  grown  very  near,  and 
up  to  now  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  with  each  other's 
love  and  asked  little  of  the  world's  society. 

There  had  come  moments  of  pain-racking  torture  to 
the  father  at  the  thought  of  his  darling's  some  day  leav- 
ing him  and  he  watched  with  jealous  eyes  each  new  ac- 
quaintance, fearing  to  find  in  him  a  possible  suitor  for 
Belle,  but  so  far  she  appeared  perfectly  heart  free, 
charming,  gay,  vivacious.  All  were  treated  alike  and 
she  showed  far  more  pleasure  to  be  with  "Dad"  than 
ever  to  be  with  any  of  the  many  men  whom  her  youth, 
beauty  and  reputed  wealth  attracted  to  her. 

She  reigned  over  the  great  house,  with  its  many  ser- 
vants, with  a  dignity  and  practical  efficiency  remark- 
able in  one  so  young.  Her  servants,  one  and  all,  adored 
her.  Her  friends,  girls  and  men,  loved  and  admired  her, 
for  her  kindly,  tactful  manner  and  her  sunshiny  dispos- 
ition knew  no  shadows. 

She  had  all  kinds  of  little  housewifely  gifts  and  was 
so  clever  with  her  fingers  in  trimming  hats  and  rearrang- 
ing clothes,  that  her  best  friend,  Sallie  Cortland,  who 
was  as  poor  as  the  proverbial  church  mouse,  would  say 
enviously,— 

"Belle,  it's  a  sheer  waste  of  good  material  your  being 
so  outrageously  rich.  With  all  of  your  gifts  you  ought 
to  be  the  eldest  daughter  of  a  poor  clergyman.  Now,  here 
am  I— never  a  dollar  to  bless  myself  with,  and  absolutely 
no  gifts  for  doing  'something  with  nothing';  and  you, 

14 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

fairly  rioting  in  wealth  and  not  needing  it  one  bit !  You 
ought  to  lose  all  your  money  and  be  obliged  to  exert  those 
talents ;  but  you  never  will  have  to.  You  are  born  to  be 
lucky  and  have  everything.  You'll  marry  a  man  rolling 
in  wealth,  have,  as  ever,  a  retinue  of  servants  and  go  the 
way  of  all  your  kind ;  and  I,  who  fairly  pine  for  a  maid, 
who  adore  lovely  things  in  which  clothes,  lovely  clothes, 
dreams  of  clothes  are  included,  shall  probably  marry  a 
man  who  has  not  a  cent,  and  have  to  scrimp  to  the  end 
of  the  chapter." 

Belle  gathered  together  her  girl  friends  one  day  short- 
ly after  her  visit  with  her  cousin,  to  beg  their  help  in 
getting  together  a  big  box  of  goodies  for  the  folk  of  Cat 
Alley. 

Not  daring  to  go  to  the  settlement  so  soon  after  her 
father's  decided  protest,  she  wrote  a  letter  to  Martha, 
telling  her  of  the  new  club  whose  members  were  to  meet 
each  Thursday  to  sew  for  the  settlement  proteges.  She 
sent  with  the  note  a  great  basket  of  jellies  and  wine,  to 
be  used  for  the  sick  people. 

Martha  answered  with  a  note  of  thanks  and  told  her 
to  obey  her  father,  who  was  quite  right  in  his  decision, 
and  enclosed  a  list  of  things  for  the  club  to  work  on, — 
all  plain,  strong,  useful  articles. 

Belle  showed  the  note  to  her  father,  who  said  after  he 
had  read  it, — 

"Sensible  girl,  Martha,  in  most  ways,  but  why  she 
could  not  stay  in  her  own  place,  I  never  could  under- 
stand. I've  no  objection  to  your  doing  anything  you 
wish  to  help  her  poor  folks,  so  long  as  you  keep  away 
from  them  yourself,  and  I  will  give  you  fifty  dollars  to 
buy  the  stuff  you  think  you  want  to  work  on,  but  I  fancy 
when  your  fine  young  lady  friends  have  done  a  few  ging- 
ham pinafores  and  red  flannel  petticoats,  their  enthus- 
iasm will  'peter  out.'  " 

Belle  privately  feared  so,  too,  and  her  fears  were  real- 
ized. After  the  fourth  meeting  there  was  a  perceptible 

15 


CHUMS 

dropping  off  of  attendance  and  at  the  end  of  six  weeks 
Belle  and  Sally  Cortland  were  the  only  ones  when  the 
club  day  came  around. 

They  finished  the  articles  that  had  been  commenced, 
and,  packing  them  in  a  box,  Belle  sent  them  to  Martha 
with  the  remainder  of  the  material  and  twenty  dollars. 
She  wrote  a  note  telling  of  the  fall  of  her  hopes  and  said 
that  she  would  come  in  some  day  for  tea,  as  her  father 
had  not  forbidden  her  to  go  to  the  settlement  house,  only 
to  "do  no  more  visiting." 

Martha  smiled  grimly,  when  the  box  and  note  came, 
and  read  the  letter  to  Mary  Tobin  and  the  big  doctor, 
who  were  there.  A  laugh  went  round  and  Mary  said, — 

"Well,  you  cannot  blame  her  father.  There  is  no 
doubt  of  the  fact  that  she  might  catch  something  and 
she  is  the  very  apple  of  his  eye,  pretty  thing !  But  it  is 
too  bad,  for  the  sight  of  so  much  freshness  and  pretti- 
ness  is  as  good  as  a  meal,  Mrs.  Malone  says,  and  they 
have  all  enquired  after  the  '  pretty  lady '. ' ' 

"I  never  could  see  why  freshness  and  prettiness,  as 
you  term  them,  could  not  do  the  world's  work  and  do  it 
well.  Surely  such  gifts  are  to  be  used  for  something 
besides  mere  joy  of  the  eye, ' '  Martha  said. 

Mary  looked  at  her  a  moment  and  then  answered, — 

"My  dear  Martha,  the  world's  work  is  rather  varied 
if  you  come  to  think  of  it.  I  have  noticed  that  old  Dame 
Nature  knows  her  business  a  bit,  and  sorts  natures  and 
conditions  so  that  they  match,  most  times,  any  way. 
When  there  are  exceptions  they  only  prove  the  rule.  To 
the  pretty,  soft,  dimpled  women  generally  fall  the  cir- 
cumstances where  all  of  that  can  be  used  to  advantage, 
and  we,  the  workers,  get  good,  plain,  serviceable  bodies 
and  features.  I  have  had  a  good  many  years  in  the  work 
and  I  have  yet  to  know  of  one  pretty  worker  who  was  of 
any  use,  or  remained  a  worker." 

Martha  smiled  and  the  doctor  laughed. 

Just  then  there  burst  into  the  room  a  small,  disheveled 

16 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

and  grimy  child,  whose  eyes  were  round  with  excitement 
and  whose  shrill  voice  called, — 

"Oh,  Miss  Martha,  Miss  Martha,  come  quick,  de  baby's 
got  'em  again ! ' '  then,  turning,  disappeared  and  her  steps 
could  be  heard  running  along  the  hall. 

"Here,  Mart,  you're  too  tired  to  go  out;  I'll  go.  I 
suppose  that  poor  baby  of  the  Dugan's  is  in  convulsions 
again ;  probably  this  time  they  have  been  feeding  it  over- 
ripe fish,  for  a  change,"  said  Mary.  "Don't  wait,  Doc- 
tor, I'll  be  along  as  soon  as  I  can  get  my  basket  ready. 
No,  Martha,  you  cannot  go.  You  are  worn  to  a  frazzle. 
Stay  home,  that's  a  dear,  and  go  'by-by.'  I'll  do  for 
once,  I  fancy,  although  they  don't  like  me  as  well  over 
in  Cat  Alley ;  you  spoil  'em. 

The  room  that  Mary  Tobln  found  the  doctor  in  was 
one  typical  of  the  quarter:  small,  dirty,  crowded  and 
stifling,  with  the  combined  odors  of  unwashed  humanity, 
stale  cooking  and  the  steam  from  a  kettle  of  boiling 
clothes. 

The  doctor  glanced  up  as  she  came  in  and  said, — 

"Open  those  windows  wide  and  then  come  and  help 
me.  These  poor  things  are  of  no  use,"  pointing  to  the 
mother  and  sister  of  the  baby. 

They  worked  over  the  small  convulsed  form  until  the 
paroxysms  were  conquered  and  the  lips  took  on  a  pink- 
ness  and  the  nostrils  lost  the  pinched  look.  Then,  wrap- 
ping the  child  in  a  soft  cotton  gown  Mary  had  brought, 
the  doctor  put  it  on  the  miserable  bed,  saying  to  the 
mother, — 

"Now,  Mrs.  Dugan,  baby's  escaped  again,  but  I  warn 
you  that  you  will  lose  her  if  you  do  not  do  as  I  direct." 

' '  But,  Doctor,  dear,  'twas  but  a  bit  of  watermelon  rind 
that  cool  and  nice  for  her  gums." 

Mary  and  the  doctor  exchanged  glances  of  despair  and 
Mary  said, — 

"There!  run  along,  Doctor;  I  know  you  have  more 
calls  to  make  and  I  will  stay  awhile.  No,  don't  close  that 

17 


CHUMS 

window,  Mrs.  Dugan,  the  air  is  awful  in  here.  Why  have 
you  the  windows  closed  anyway,  on  such  a  warm  day  ? '  ' 

"Sure,  Miss  Mary,  the  air  is  bad  for  sickness.  Me 
mother  did  be  always  keepin'  us  well  covered  whin  we 
ailed,  and  she  had  twilve  of  us."  This  last  rather  sulkily. 

Mary  looked  about  the  room. 

"Where's  the  new  rocker,  and  the  dishpan  and  pots 
and  pans  and  dishes?" 

Mrs.  Dugan  flushed  up  and  began  an  explanation 
whose  inarticulateness  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that 
she  was  sniffling  behind  her  apron,  and  all  that  Miss 
Tobin  could  catch  was,— 

"Me  man,— wid  the  drink,— and  ticket  in  the  race." 

Mary  sighed,  it  was  all  so  old  a  story,— ignorance, 
shiftlessness,  dirt  and  drink.  Cause  and  effect  had  been 
lost  sight  of  so  long  ago. 

Mary,  sometimes,  when  she  was  tired  and  disheart- 
ened, wondered  if  all  of  the  effort  she  and  others  like  her 
put  forth  was  ever  to  bear  fruit.  Now  her  eyes  trav- 
eled around  the  dirty,  unkempt  room  that  only  the  month 
before  she  and  Martha  had  made  comfortable  and  clean, 
hoping  that  by  arousing  the  sense  of  possession,  the 
pride  in  actual  ownership,  they  might  get  this  poor  wom- 
an to  take  one  step  up.  Evidently  it  was  not  in  her  to 
be  helped  or  lifted. 

,  "Well,  Mrs.  Dugan,  stop  crying  and  listen  to  what 
I  tell  you.  You  must  keep  strictly  to  the  diet  the  doctor 
prescribed  for  the  baby,  and  if  Ellen  will  come  over  to 
the  mission  every  morning  at  eight  I  will  send  you  baby's 
milk  for  the  day.  Then,  all  you  will  have  to  do  will  be 
to  warm  it  and  keep  her  bottles  clean.  Let  me  see  her 
bottle." 

Ellen  burrowed  under  the  heap  of  things  on  the  bed 
and  dragged  out  a  nursing-bottle,  the  contents  of  which 
seemed  congealed  and  gave  out  a  fetid,  sour  odor.  Miss 
Mary  took  off  the  rubber  nipple  and,  slipping  it  inside 
out,  exposed  a  greenish  coating  so  thick  that  the  tiny 
holes  were  stopped. 

18 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

"Good  heavens!"  was  all  she  said  as  she  held  it  up 
accusingly.  "After  all  I  have  told  you  and  warned 
you  of  the  necessity  of  keeping  these  clean !  Where  are 
the  others?" 

The  mother  was  frightened  into  truthfulness  and  an- 
swered,— 

"  'Tis  broke  they  are."  And  the  soft,  dirty,  once 
pretty  face  looked  so  frightened  and  helpless  that  Mary 
said  no  more. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Dugan,  I  shall  have  to  report  you  to  the 
Society  and  have  baby  taken  away.  You  will  certainly 
kill  her  with  such  utter  neglect." 

Once  again  going  over  the  directions,  she  left,  taking 
the  bottle  and  its  contents  with  her,  to  show  to  Martha 
and  the  doctor,  later ;  and  doing  up  two  fresh  bottles  and 
nipples  and  a  sufficient  amount  of  milk  for  the  baby  for 
the  night,  she  sent  them  back  by  little  Ellen,  who  had 
accompanied  her  to  the  settlement  house,  and  who  was 
rewarded  with  a  thick  piece  of  bread  and  butter  and  a 
bowl  of  soup,  after  first  having  her  dirty  little  face  and 
hands  washed  and  the  mop  of  curls  tied  back. 

As  they  sat  down  to  their  supper  awhile  later  Mary 
said,  when  she  had  finished  recounting  the  events  in  the 
Dugan  menage, — 

"Martha,  do  you  think  that  we  can  make  any  impres- 
sion on  this  great  mass  of  people  like  the  Dugans  ?  Truly 
there  are  times  when  I  doubt  it.  I  believe  the  only  hope 
lies  in  the  Kindergarten  work.  The  children  will  have 
to  do  the  work  in  the  homes.  Oh,  of  course,  we  do  save 
some  people,  but  not  many.  I  saw  the  Duchess  this  af- 
ternoon and  she  was  full  of  joy  over  the  Malones  and 
their  bit  of  luck ;  but  they  are  an  exception  to  the  rule, 
any  way,  and  only  prove  what  I  say.  Funny,  isn't  it, 
how  we  keep  on  in  spite  of  the  horrors  of  it  all?  Al- 
though I  get  rabid  over  things,  still  I  know  perfectly 
well  I  could  not  give  it  up  and  go  back  to  the  old  life; 
and  you're  worse,  if  anything. 

Uncle  Theodore  once  told  me  that  I  was  a  born  dic- 

19 


CHUMS 

tator  and  as  I  could  not  'boss  the  job'  in  my  own  posi- 
tion in  life,  I  had  taken  up  this,  and  that  if  the  truth 
were  known  all  of  the  people  I  work  for  wish  I  would 
mind  my  own  business.  Poor  little  Mrs.  Dugan,  today, 
I  know  thought  I  was  distinctly  not  minding  my  business 
when  I  rated  her  soundly  for  the  baby's  milk  bottle. 
Oh,  it's  all  a  bit  of  a  muddle." 

One  afternoon  Belle  English  came  into  the  room  as 
Martha,  Mary  and  the  doctor  were  having  tea,  and  gave 
a  most  amusing  account  of  her  trials  at  home  with  the 
sewing  society  and  her  father's  obduracy  in  regard  to 
the  district  visiting. 

"Truly,  Mart,  I  do  want  to  be  of  some  use,"  she  said, 
after  they  had  laughed  with  her. 

"Well,  you  are  of  use,  my  dear.  You  are  doing  your 
duty  in  that  condition  of  life  that  Providence  has  placed 
you  in." 

"But,  Mart,  you  were  placed  in  the  same  condition 
and  you  did  not  think  it  held  work. ' ' 

"Oh,  that  was  quite  different,  child,— I  was  absolutely 
alone;  no  nearer  relatives  than  second  cousins.  You 
have  your  father,  and  then,  besides,  all  of  my  desires 
pointed  settlementwards.  I  wanted  to  get  into  the  arena 
and  fight." 

"No,  he  says" — then  flushing  hotly  as  she  remem- 
bered what  her  father  had  said,  she  stopped  and  Martha 
laughed. 

"Never  mind,  dear,  your  father  has  his  point  of  view, 
and  as  he  is  the  best  father  in  the  world  to  you,  you  can- 
not go  against  him;  but  if  you  want  work  so  badly  I 
can  perhaps  give  you  some  to  do  in  a  quarter  that  Uncle 
will  not  mind  your  visiting.  It's  up  in  Harlem.  And 
whilst  it  is  not  picturesquely,  shudderingly  awful,  as 
you  describe  the  other,  it  has  almost  greater  possibilities 
— along  other  lines." 


20 


WORKERS    IN    THE    VINEYARD 

The  doctor  got  up  and  went  over  to  the  window 
abruptly  and  Mary  looked  up  inquiringly  at  Martha. 

"It  is  a  case  of  great  interest  to  me  and  if  it  were  not 
that  I  love  you  I  would  not  turn  it  over  to  you, ' '  Martha 
continued.  "If  you  wish,  I  will  take  you  with  me  to- 
morrow. You  may  ask  me  to  luncheon,  I  feel  rather  in 
the  mood  to  be  waited  on  by  a  butler,  and  dear  old  Rob- 
bins  will  think  I'm  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning- 
poor  old  chap,  how  he  has  hated  to  have  me  down  here ; 
old  Jane  comes  to  see  me  occasionally  and  never  fails 
to  tell  me  that '  any  time  I  get  tired  of  this '  Robbins  will 
get  together  an  establishment  for  me.  My  private  opin- 
ion is,  Belle,  that  Robbins  intends  on  that  auspicious  day 
to  leave  you  and  come  to  me. ' ' 

"Oh,  I've  known  that,  always,"  laughed  Belle.  "Well, 
then,  Mart,  it's  tomorrow  at  twelve-thirty;  after  that  we 
go  to  your  protege— or  my  protege— you're  a  dear!  and 
I  will  be  so  attentive  to  her  she  will  hate  to  get  well.  I 
must  rush  now,  for  I  have  to  stop  in  at  Sally's  before  I 
go  home." 

After  Belle  had  left,  Martha  said, — 

"What  is  it,  Doctor?  You  evidently  do  not  approve 
of  my  giving  Belle  my  poor  Elsie  to  brighten  up." 

The  doctor  looked  distressed  and  finally  answered, — 

"Well,  no;  for  the  moment  I  am  not  quite  certain  it 
is  best.  Miss  Belle's  charming  girlishness — and— eh — 
innocence" 

"Now,  see  here,  Doctor," — Mary  spoke  up,  interrupt- 
ing him— "What  I  am  going  to  say  might  seem  an  im- 
pertinence coming  from  anyone  but  one  of  your  co-work- 
ers, but  if  Belle  English  were  slab-sided,  lantern-jawed 
and  squint-eyed,  do  you  think  you  would  be  so  distressed 
at  the  possibility  of  her  what-you-term  innocence  being 
troubled?" 

The  doctor  turned  red  and  then  shouted,  and  Martha 
could  not  refrain  from  a  smile. 


21 


CHUMS 

"My  dear  Mary,  you  go  straight  to  the  point,  don't 
you?  I  am  properly  abashed  and  see  now  that  you  are 
quite  right  and  I  quite  wrong. 

"But,"  laughed  Mary,  "like  the  other  one,  convinced 
against  your  will, — eh?" 

At  twelve  Martha  Farrish  rang  the  bell  and  Bobbins 
opened  the  door,  beaming  deferentially,  and  ushered  her 
up  to  Belle 's  sitting-room. 

"Oh,  Mart,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come.  I  don't  in 
the  least  know  what  to  wear.  I  want  to  be  suitable,  and 
you  told  me  so  little  I  did  not  know  what  was  suitable. 
Now,  I  see,"  looking  at  Martha's  golden  brown  tweed. 

As  they  drove  up-town  after  lunch,  Belle  said,— 

"Now,  tell  me  about  this  sick  girl,  Martha." 

"  It  is  a  sad  story,  dear,  and  an  old  one.  Elsie  McDon- 
ald is  just  twenty-one.  She  worked  in  a  shop  as  a  maker 
of  bows  and  neck  trimmings,  kept  her  mother, — who  is 
badly  crippled  with  rheumatism,— and  a  ten-year-old 
brother. 

About  a  year  ago  she  met  a  man  who  professed  to  love 
her.  She  was  proud  of  her  conquest  (he  is  much  above 
her  socially)  and  grew  to  love  him  in  return.  When  he 
claimed  it  impossible  to  marry  her  for  a  year,  for  fam- 
ily reasons,  she  trusted  him  to  keep  his  promise  to  marry 
her  when  the  year  was  up,  and  lived  with  him.  Her 
baby  was  born  about  three  weeks  ago. 

The  man  has  tired  of  her  and  refuses  to  keep  his 
promise  and  Elsie  is  facing  a  hard  future.  He  sent  her 
a  thousand  dollars,  which  she  returned;  and  now  she  is 
struggling  through  her  convalescence  as  best  she  can. 
They  have  a  trifle  put  by,  but  only  a  trifle,  and  the  win- 
ter is  coming  on." 

Belle's  lovely  face  was  quite  white  and  her  pretty 
teeth  shut  with  a  snap  as  she  said, — 

"The  brute!  the  brute!" 

They  climbed  the  four  flights  to  the  tiny  flat,  and 
Martha  left  Belle  in  the  hall  whilst  she  went  inside. 

22 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

Presently  she  called  to  her  and  Belle  went  into  what 
had  been  the  sitting  room  or  parlor,  before  the  illness, 
but  which  had  been  converted  into  a  bedroom.  The  air 
was  fresh,  both  windows  being  widely  opened,  and  the 
simple  furniture  was  pretty  and  in  good  taste.  There 
were  two  well  filled  book  cases,  an  upright  piano  in  the 
corner,  several  etchings  on  the  walls  and  a  few  good 
photographs. 

On  a  couch  bed,  bolstered  up  with  pillows,  lay  the  girl, 
and  from  a  bundle  beside  her  appeared  a  tiny  face  and 
two  small,  wavering  fists. 

There  were  bright  spots  on  the  thin  cheeks  of  the 
young  mother  and  her  pretty  eyes  held  a  defiant  look, 
but  Belle  greeted  her  charmingly  and  begged  to  hold  the 
baby.  Martha  saw,  at  the  end  of  a  few  minutes,  that 
there  was  to  be  no  awkwardness,  and  so  left  the  room 
to  find  the  older  woman.  Belle's  evident  admiration  of, 
and  joy  in,  the  baby  was  pretty  to  see,  and  by  the  time 
Martha  returned  to  the  room  Belle  and  Elsie  had  for- 
gotten difference  of  position  and  were  chatting  together, 
whilst  Belle  snuggled  the  wee  baby  to  her  cheek  and 
Elsie's  clever  fingers  twisted  and  tied  the  ribbon  she  was 
at  work  on. 

Martha  said, — 

"It  will  be  another  month  before  you  can  go  back  to 
work,  Elsie,  and  even  then  I  do  not  see  how  the  grand- 
mother is  to  look  after  baby — in  the  condition  she  is  in. 
If  you  could  get  enough  work  to  do  at  home,  that  would, 
of  course,  be  best." 

"You  are  awfully  good,  Miss  Martha,"  said  Elsie, 
"but  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  managed.  You  see,  one  of 
the  reasons  I  get  such  good  pay  at  —  —  &  Co.'s  is 
because  I  am  on  hand  to  do  things.  You  would  be  sur- 
prised to  know  how  much  a  customer  is  influenced  to 
buy  expensive  ribbons  by  seeing  other  women  buying 
and  watching  me  make  them  up.  Then,  between  times, 
I  can  do  hurry-up  orders.  Being  miles  away  from  the 

23 


CHUMS 

shop,  I  could  do  only  stock  work,  which  would  not  pay; 
but  if  you  could  find  me  a  nice  little  girl,  who  was  steady 
and  quiet,  to  come  and  help  mother  with  "Blessing"— 

"Oh,  is  that  what  you  have  named  Baby?"  exclaimed 
Belle,  quick  tears  coming  to  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  she  is  my  blessing,  and  so  I've  called  her— poor 
darling,  she  shall  have  double  love  from  me  to  make  up 
to  her  for  not  having  a  decent  father." 

Martha  knew  of  a  twelve-year-old  girl,  who  she 
thought  would  be  just  what  was  needed,  and  promised  to 
arrange  it  so  that  by  the  time  Elsie  went  back  to  work 
there  would  be  someone  to  help  with  the  baby.  Pres- 
ently, after  they  had  had  tea,  served  very  daintily  from 
a  pretty  service  of  some  oriental  ware,  and  Martha  had 
told  of  some  of  the  recent  amusing  happenings  in  Cat 
Alley,  they  took  their  departure. 

Martha  kissed  the  pretty  mouth  Elsie  turned  to  her, 
saying,— 

"There,  child,  I  do  hope  we  have  not  stayed  too  long 
and  talked  too  much, ' '  and  Belle  pressed  the  small  hand 
and  asked  if  she  might  come  again,  as  she  put  the  little 
bundle  in  Elsie's  arms.  They  made  their  way  down  to 
the  street  in  silence.  Belle  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Mart,  I  am  awfully  glad  you  took  me  and  I  think 
Elsie  is  lovely — really  lovely,  not  only  pretty ;  whilst  you 
were  out  of  the  room  she  told  me  a  good  deal  about  what 
she  intends  to  do  and  her  attitude  is  so  fine.  She  says 
that  she  shall  not  make  any  attempt  to  hide  the  truth, 
but  take  her  'medicine.'  Truly,  I  think  she  is  remark- 
ably strong. ' ' 

"Belle,  dear,  in  admiration  of  the  sinner,  who  is 
I  admit  most  lovable,  do  not  forget  the  sin.  Of  course 
it  is  rankly  unfair  that  all  of  the  agony,  sorrow  and 
humiliation  should  fall  upon  her,  but  it  is  the  penalty, 
and  society  will  make  her  pay  to  the  last  farthing.  Did 
she  tell  you  that  they  had  notice  to  leave  their  flat  ? ' ' 

"No.    Oh,  how  mean!" 

Martha  smiled  at  the  outburst.    "I  want  you  to  look 

24 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

up  a  flat  for  them.  I  will  give  you  the  list  I  have.  It 
will  be  a  great  help,  for  I  am  busy  just  now  and  they 
must  leave  by  the  first,  two  weeks  off.  The  neighbor- 
hoods are  quite  decent  and  you  can  take  Sallly  or  one 
of  the  other  girls  with  you  and  go  fearlessly.  My  only 
fear  is  that  they  are  too  respectable  and  will,  in  conse- 
quence, be  prying.  However,  we  can  but  try— will  you 
go  this  week  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  Mart.  I'll  take  Sally  and  go  tomorrow  and  I 
am  going  to  up  to  see  Elsie  again  this  week.  I  need  some 
new  stocks  and  she  can  make  them  for  me ;  and  I  feel  as 
though  I  could  not  stay  away  from  that  baby;  did  you 
ever  see  such  a  dear  ? ' ' 

Martha  smiled  indulgently  and  kissed  Belle  good-bye 
at  the  door,  refusing  to  go  in,  pleading  "things  to  do." 

When  she  arrived  at  the  settlement  house  she  was  met 
at  the  door  by  Mary,  who,  finger  on  lip,  pulled  her  inside 
the  small  room  at  the  right  of  the  hall  and  whispered, — 

"Mrs.  Finn,  Mrs.  Mullaly  and  Mrs.  O'Brien  are 
waiting  for  you.  I  thought  I'd  best  see  you  first  and 
prepare  you." 

Martha  sighed  and  stood  in  thought  a  moment  before 
she  went  into  the  room  beyond.  The  three  women  rose 
as  she  came  in  and  she  greeted  them  kindly  but  a  trifle 
coldly,  and  this  coldness  immediately  influenced  Mrs. 
Finn  to  sniffle  loudly.  Mrs.  O'Brien  said, — 

"Sure,  Miss  Martha,  darlint " 

Martha  held  up  her  hand  and  as  they  subsided  into 
their  chairs  she  took  one  near  Mrs.  Finn  and  said, — 

"So,  the  'woman's  relief  work'  is  a  failure.  I  am 
sorry  to  hear  it.  I  thought,  with  you  three  women,  the 
most  capable,  the  best  informed  of  the  doings  of  the 
quarter"  (here  one  of  Mrs.  Mullaly 's  pink-rimmed  eyes 
looked  around  the  fold  of  dusty  crepe  she  held  against 
her  face,  with  a  quizzical  expression  that  was  almost 
Martha's  undoing)  "the  most  able  to  settle  disputes, — 
things  would  go  well.  Why  do  they  not?" 

No  one  spoke  for  a  moment.     Then  Mrs.  O'Brien's 

25 


CHUMS 

rich  brogue  took  up  the  tale,  with  an  occasional  assent- 
ing murmur  from  the  other  two. 

After  it  was  over,  Martha  said, — 

"Now,  ladies,"— here  they  individually  and  collec- 
tively breathed  hard — "I  shall  ask  you  to  do  me  the 
favor  of  making  one  further  trial  of  it  and  I  think  if 
you  will  ask  the  Duchess  for  help  when  you  find  the 
work  too  much — for  instance,  let  her  relieve  you  of  the 
book-keeping  part  of  it,  that  is  such  a  drudgery.  I  am 
certain  that  she  would,  for  she  never  refuses  anyone 
anything,  does  she?" 

"No,  the  angel!"  sighed  Mrs.  Finn. 

—"Then  the  really  difficult  part  of  talking  with  the 
women,  getting  them  to  understand  the  value  of  the 
'fund'  and  the  relief  pawn-shop,  you  three  can  do." 

A  great  sigh  of  relief  went  up. 

"Sure,  we  be  that  stupid,"  said  Mrs.  O'Brien,  "that 
we  never  once  thought  of  the  little  Duchess,  and  her  a 
wonder  at  sums." 

The  nai've  admission  was  almost  too  much  for  Mar- 
tha's gravity,  and  when,  after  much  interesting  talk  of 
"he  said"  and  "she  said"  and  "Father  Tally,  God  love 
him,"  etc.,  they  left  and  Martha  sank  back  on  her  chair, 
she  thought  with  amusement  of  how  really  funny  it  had 
been,  and  wondered  that  people  thought  life  dull  and 
uninteresting. 

Anna  Dean  had  a  guest  to  dinner  that  night  and  the 
doctor  dropped  in  shortly  before  the  hour,  so  they  kept 
him,  and  Martha  regaled  them  all  with  an  account  of 
the  afternoon's  work. 

As  she  told  of  Belle's  sweetness  to  Elsie  and  her  fur- 
ther plans  for  helping  her,  the  doctor's  eyes  grew  bright- 
er and  his  big  face  was  very  pleasant  to  look  upon,  as 
he  said, — 

"I  knew  the  young  lady  would  find  it  a  joy  to  help 
those  who  need  help." 


26 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

Mary  turned  away  with  a  queer  twist  to  her  lips  and 
Martha  answered, — 

"Yes,  the  dear  child  is  full  to  bubbling  over  with 
helpfulness.  I  wish  Uncle  were  not  so  set  in  his  views." 


Several  months  slipped  away. 

Belle  had  kept  up  her  visits  to  Elsie  in  her  new  home. 
The  baby  held  out  dimpled  arms  to  her  whenever  she  ap- 
peared. Elsie  had  gone  back  to  her  place  at 

&  Co.'s,  and  little  Nora  Flinn  came  daily  to  help  with 
the  care  of  baby  Blessing  and  aid  Mrs.  McDonald,  who 
was  suffering  greatly  from  rheumatism. 

Belle  had  grown  into  the  habit  of  dropping  into  the 
settlement  house  often  at  tea  time,  with  fruit  and  flow- 
ers, jellies  and  cordials,  for  Martha's  sick  folk,  and  as 
the  days  grew  shorter  it  was  quite  dark  when  at  five  she 
would  leave  for  home,  and  the  big  doctor  felt  it  right  to 
see  that  the  dainty  girl  was  safely  out  of  the  neighbor- 
hood and  at  her  own  door :  so  that  they  two  had  grown 
to  feel  very  well  acquainted.  As  he  told  her  of  his 
hopes  and  plans  for  the  betterment  of  his  people: — 
hopes  of  getting  clean,  sanitary  homes,  even  though  but 
a  room  a-piece;  hopes  of  establishing  reading  and  lec- 
ture rooms  for  his  boys,  places  where  there  would  be 
more  attractions  than  they  now  found  in  the  streets  and 
saloons,— Belle  watched  his  face  glow  with  enthusiasm 
and  ambition,  and  she  marveled — and  from  marveling 
came  to  feel  the  great  "call  of  the  weighted  brother- 
hood," those  who  had,  from  birth,  been  kept  down 
through  inherited  conditions  of  health,  environment  and 
their  fellow  men.  As  she  and  the  doctor  grew  better  and 
better  friends,  she  gave  expression  to  her  interest  and 
desire  to  be  affiliated  with  the  workers. 

One  stormy  day,  when  the  wind  was  blowing  so  hard 
that  she  had  been  obliged  to  cling  close  to  the  strong  arm 


27 


CHUMS 

of  the  doctor  and  they  had  struggled  along,  deep  in  talk, 
about  a  block  from  her  home  a  closed  carriage  passed 
them,  the  horses  going  slowly  over  the  icy  street,  when, 
under  the  corner  light  the  carriage  stopped,  the  door 
opened  quickly,  and  Mr.  English  got  out,  calling  to 
Belle,  who  had  not  seen  him. 

"Belle,  Belle!"  The  irate  voice,  so  familiar,  brought 
Belle  to  a  stop  and,  turning,  she  saw  her  father,  his  al- 
ways red  face  aflame  with  anger,  his  harsh  voice  thick. 

"Get  in  there,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  carriage. 
"  I  've  a  word  to  say  with  this  gentleman. ' ' 

Belle  stepped  into  the  carriage  and  looked  anxiously 
out. 

The  doctor  had  raised  his  hat  and  his  strong  face  was 
set  and  cold,  as  he  listened  to  the  tirade  that  the  older 
man  poured  forth. 

Belle's  straining  ears  could  catch  occasional  words 
and  phrases  and  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes  and  a  sob  to 
her  throat  as  she  realized  how  ruthlessly  her  father  was 
pulling  down  her  slender  dream  house. 

As  the  older  man  came  to  a  pause  for  lack  of  breath, 
the  doctor  raised  his  hat  again,  saying, — 

"Mr.  English,  you  are  mistaken  on  several  points,  but 
that  does  not  matter :  but  you  are  right  that  I  love  your 
daughter,  although  I  did  not  know  it  until  now,  myself. 
Just  how  that  knowledge  will  affect  her  I  truly  do  not 
know,  but  I  shall  ask  her." 

"You  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  She  shall  not  ruin 
her  life  because  in  a  moment  of  youthful  enthusiasm 
she  got  mixed  up  with  this  settlement  business.  And 
you,  sir,  do  you  think  you  have  a  right  to  try  to  take  a 
girl,  brought  up  as  mine  has  been,  down  to  live  in  the 
slums  ? ' '  And  turning,  he  stepped  into  the  carriage  and 
closed  the  door. 

They  alighted  at  the  house  in  silence  and  he  helped  her 
up  the  steps  and  into  the  vestibule,  still  silent.  As  they 
were  removing  their  wraps  in  the  hall,  he  said  without 
looking  at  her, — 

28 


WORKERS   IN    THE    VINEYARD 

"Come  to  my  study,  Belle,  after  you  have  dined.  I 
shall  not  join  you  tonight.  Robbins,  bring  me  a  tray  to 
my  study." 

Their  talk  was  a  long  one,  and  after  it  was  over  and 
Belle  sat  on  a  low  chair  next  him,  he  said,  with  a  long 
breath, — 

"Well,  thank  God!  I  found  out  about  this  in  time, 
for  it  would  have  about  broken  my  heart  to  have  had 
you  marry  him,  and  it  would  have  made  me  wretched 
to  forbid  you  to,  if  your  heart  had  been  set  on  it. ' ' 

Belle  had  been  crying,  and  now  rather  chokingly 
laughed  as  she  answered, — 

"Daddy  dear,  I  guess  I'm  only  a  silly,  frivolous  thing, 
but  I  did  get  awfully  interested  in  their  work  and  I  do 
like,  oh,  awfully  like,  the  doctor,  but  I  don't  love  him." 

"That's  all  right,  you  can  send  'em  a  fat  check,  and 
I'll  give  Martha  a  proper  wigging  when  I  see  her;  but 
I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  eat  humble  pie  to  that  young  giant 
for  my  plain  speech,  and  that's  all  right.  As  long  as  I 
don't  lose  you  I  don't  care."  His  big,  thick-fingered 
hand  was  very  tender  as  he  smoothed  her  bright  hair. 

"Oh,  Dad!  what  a  time  I  am  going  to  have  with  you 
sometime  when  Mr.  Eight  comes  along." 

"Not  at  all!  not  at  all!"  he  spluttered.  "When  the 
right  man  comes,  a  man  of  your  world" 

She  pulled  his  face  down  and  kissed  him.  "You're 
an  old  dear,  but  I  have  brought  you  up  quite  wrongly. 
Think  of  a  properly  behaved  father  doing  what  you  did, 
and  Robbins  says  you  did  not  eat  your  dinner,  either." 

"Oh,  bother  Robbins!" 

"Well,  dear,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  could  not  eat 
mine,  either.  There  was  an  inconvenient  lump  in  my 
throat.  Let's  have  supper,— here  before  the  fire" — 
and,  springing  up,  she  rang  the  bell.  "Oh,  Robbins, 
will  you  ask  cook  if  she  will  send  us  up  a  nice  little  sup- 
per; say,  a  couple  of  birds  and  a  celery  root  salad — 
and  anything  else  she  wants  to."  Robbins  discreetly 
withdrew,  trying  hard  not  to  smile  at  her  roguish  ex- 

29 


CHUMS 

pression,  and  Mr.  English  laboriously  made  up  the  fire 
with  unnecessary  fuel,  whilst  keeping  his  face  turned  to 
it.  "And,  oh,  Bobbins,  you  might  bring  a  bottle  of 
sparkling  Moselle,  too,"  Belle  called  after  him. 

They  sat  at  the  little  table  drawn  up  to  the  fire :  Rob- 
bins  converting  the  big  library  table  into  a  buffet,  served 
them,  and  the  wind  wailed  and  sobbed  and  shook  the 
house  with  great  blasts,  but  within  the  luxurious  room, 
with  its  closely  drawn  curtains  and  glowing  fire,  there 
was  a  great  calm,  the  calm  that  comes  after  an  emotional 
storm. 

The  following  day  came  a  letter  from  the  doctor,  tell- 
ing Belle  of  his  love  and  asking  her  to  marry  him  and, 
with  him,  work  out  the  plans  they  had  so  often  talked 
over. 

Belle  answered  it  frankly,  honestly,  as  she  did  all 
things.  After  the  doctor  had  read  her  letter  he  sighed 
deeply,  then,  putting  the  dainty,  violet-tinted  paper  on 
the  coals,  watched  it  curl  and  crisp  and,  finally,  caught 
up  by  a  puff  of  wind,  disappear  in  the  chimney. 

At  the  mission  house  about  the  same  time  Martha  was 
reading  aloud  to  Mary  a  note  from  Mr.  English.  When 
she  finished,  Mary  said, — 

"He's  quite  right.  The  child  is  no  more  fitted  than  a 
butterfly  for  the  life  of  the  woman  who  marries  our 
doctor.  She  is  a  dear,  loving,  tender  thing,  but  it  needs 
so  much  more  added  to  those  attributes  to  keep  such  a 
man  as  he  happy.  Here  is  a  check,  Martha,  for  five 
thousand.  Well,"  (with  a  rise  of  her  heavy  brows) 
"Mr.  English  evidently  thinks  it  was  a  narrow  squeeze. 
This  will  build  the  new  addition,  hurrah!" 

Martha  said  no  single  word,  but  went  quietly  out  of 
the  room  and,  after  she  had  closed  the  door,  Mary  mur- 
mured,— 

"Poor  dear!" 


30 


An  Experiment  in  Economics 


E  were  as  usual  gathered  about  the  tea  ta- 
ble one  afternoon  in  March,  and  Theo  said, 
looking  at  the  tea  outfit, — 

"Girls,  do  you  realize  that  every  article 
on  that  table  is  a  treasure,  from  the  col- 
lector's point  of  view,  and  yet  that  in 
actual  dollars  they  cost  next  to  nothing  ? ' ' 
"Well,  I  like  that,"  said  Dimples, 
1  don 't  you  consider  our  time  of  value  ?  And  how  many 
hours  we  have  put  in!— oh  yes,  blissfully,  I'll  admit,  but 
still  taken  from  work,  you  know,  hunting  in  musty  old 
shops." 

"Oh,  of  course,  it  takes  time,  and,  as  you  justly  re- 
mark, time's  money;  but  I  think  that  what  I  was  trying 
to  express  was  that  if  one  has  time,  plus  infinite  patience 
and  the  true  collector's  'flaire,'  one  can  gather  together 
treasures  without  spending  much  in  actual  money." 

"Goodness,  but  I've  proved  that"—  "And  I," 
said  Dimples;  "why  when  I  decided  to  start  life  with  a 
hundred  dollars  for  my  entire  capital  and  a  small  trunk 
and  a  grip  quite  ample  to  contain  the  wardrobe  I  took 
with  me,  I  learned  among  other  things  just  what  treas- 
ures one  could  find,  given  the  requisite  collector's  gifts." 
"Oh,  Dimples,  tell  us— do"— "Yes,  do"  was  echoed 
from  all  sides;  "it's  only  four-fifteen,  and  you've  plenty 
of  time  for  a  good,  long  yarn. ' ' 

Dimples  laughed  at  the  outburst,  and  said, — 

' '  I  think  I  would  better  read  you  the  diary  I  kept  that 

first  year  of  my  independence.     That  will  be  better,  so 

I  '11  go  and  hunt  if  up  whilst  you  clear  away  the  things. ' ' 

Presently  she  came  back,  and,  as  the  early  twilight  had 

settled  down  into  a  dark  gray  curtain  and  the  winds  were 

rampant,  we  drew  the  shades,  lit  the  lamps  and,  busying 

31 


CHUMS 

ourselves  with  our  various  work,  we  prepared  to  listen  to 
Dimples 's  story: 

This  diary  I  shall  faithfully  keep,  posting  from  week 
to  week,  so  that  I  may  at  the  end  of  my  experiment  be 
able  to  follow  clearly  my  life  during  this  year,  beginning 
November  1,  18 — . 

Arrived  this  morning  at  10.30,  Union  Depot,  possessed 
of  luggage  consisting  of  one  steamer  trunk,  one  large 
grip,  umbrella,  the  clothes  I  wore  and  one  hundred  dol- 
lars in  money ;  perfect  health,  great  amount  of  hope,  and 
the  faith  that  with  these  two  last  items  I  could  make 
some  kind  of  a  life  for  myself,  where  I  might  find  happi- 
ness, content  and  decent  comfort. 

My  first  thought  was  to  find  a  clean,  unfurnished  room 
with  the  privilege  of  light  housekeeping;  so  I  left  my 
grip  at  the  parcel  room  in  the  depot,  and  took  a  car 
down  town,  as  I  wished  to  go  to  a  part  of  the  city  I  had 
always  thought  most  picturesque — that  along  the  water- 
front. 

After  looking  at  many  rooms,  all  more  or  less  dirty  and 
unsanitary,  I  stopped  at  an  Italian  fruit  stand  and  asked 
the  kindly-faced,  round,  little  woman  within  if  she  could 
tell  me  of  any  one  who  had  a  vacant  room,  preferably  an 
attic  one.  I  spoke  to  her  in  Italian,  and  she  fairly 
beamed  upon  me  as  she  replied, — 

"That  in  the  house  above  the  shop  her  husband's 
mother  lived  on  the  top  floor,  and  that  she  thought  that 
she  would  rent  me  the  back  attic,  if  I  would  furnish  it 
myself, ' '  and  she  added,  with  that  quick  appreciation  of 
the  beauty-loving  nation  to  which  she  belonged, — "that 
the  two  windows  looked  out  upon  the  harbor  and  the  sun- 
sets were  magnifica,  seen  from  them." 

She  and  her  family  lived  in  the  adjoining  house. 

I  followed  her  directions,  climbing  the  three  flights  of 
steep  stairs,  and  finally  arriving  at  the  top  landing, 
which,  being  lighted  by  a  skylight,  was  cheerful  and 
bright. 

32 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

I  knocked  at  the  door  to  the  left,  and  in  answer  a  fat, 
dark,  jolly  old  woman  appeared.  After  I  had  explained 
to  her  my  errand,  and  that  her  daughter-in-law  had  sent 
me  to  her,  she  received  me  like  a  long  lost  sister  and 
showed  me  into  the  empty  room,  which  I  found  was  a 
good-sized  one  and,  as  my  little  friend  of  the  fruit  shop 
had  said,  with  "a  view  magnifica."  Upon  learning  the 
price — five  dollars  a  month — I  took  it,  paying  in  advance, 
and  then  I  sallied  forth  to  get  some  necessary  furniture 
for  it. 

Now,  my  idea  has  always  been  that  there  is  generally 
a  choice  to  be  had ;  even  when  buying  useful  things  they 
need  not  of  necessity  be  ugly,  and  I  intended  to  go  very 
slow  about  my  furnishings,  only  getting  the  barest  ne- 
cessities at  first  and  gradually  adding  as  I  came  across 
things  that  satisfied  my  taste. 

To  start  with,  the  room  was  clean,  had  been  just  freshly 
whitewashed  and  the  floor  and  woodwork  scrubbed,  so 
that  was  off  my  mind. 

I  took  a  car  and  went  up  town,  where,  at  Macy's,  I 
bought  a  box  couch  with  good  springs  and  covered  in 
dark  green  denim;  two  pillows  in  similar  covering;  two 
pairs  of  art  portieres  in  some  one  of  the  art  linens  in 
dark  green,  with  a  narrow  Grecian  border  in  shades  of 
tan;  one  low  basket  chair  and  one-half  dozen  large  tow- 
els of  huckabuck ;  one  half-dozen  medium-sized  bath  tow- 
els; two  warm  travelling  rugs  and  four  pairs  of  sheets 
and  cases;  one  half-dozen  "near-linen"  hemstitched  doi- 
lies of  different  sizes.  These  I  paid  for  and  ordered  sent 
to  my  room ;  then,  on  my  way  back,  I  bought,  at  a  small 
shop  near  my  new  address,  a  little  tete-a-tete  set  of  blue 
and  white  porcelain,  containing  teapot,  sugar  basin, 
cream  jug  and  two  cups  and  saucers;  added  to  these 
three  blue  and  white  plates  and  a  nest  of  six  blue  and 
white  bowls,  the  largest  holding  two  quarts;  bought  a 
toaster,  a  broiler,  a  two-quart  stew  pan  with  cover  and  a 
tea-kettle  in  enamel  ware. 

33 


CHUMS 

At  a  second-hand  shop  I  bought  a  small  stove  of  the 
kind  whose  front  can  be  opened  by  sliding  the  doors, 
and  an  old  brass-bound  oak  box,  which  I  will  convert 
into  a  coal  box;  brass  tongs,  shovel  and  poker,  which 
were  in  good  shape  and  workmanship  and  which  a  bottle 
of  metal  polish  and  some  elbow  grease  would  make  things 
of  beauty,  and  a  mahogany-framed  rocking  chair. 

I  got  two  clean,  empty  boxes  from  a  grocer  where  I 
bought  my  modest  little  list  of  necessaries,  and  got  a 
hammer  and  nails,  tacks  and  four  pieces  of  ten-inch 
board  sawed  into  two-foot  lengths,  with  the  necessary 
pieces  of  wood  for  braces  and  uprights. 

By  evening  everything  was  in  place,  and  the  little 
stove  was  doing  its  best  to  sound  a  note  of  coziness.  The 
kettle  was  boiling  cheerfully,  and,  after  I  had  made  my- 
self a  cup  of  tea  and  toasted  myself  two  muffins,  which 
I  buttered  well  and  lightly  spread  with  chipped  beef,  I 
ate  my  supper  in  a  state  of  beatitude,  then  cleared  away 
and  took  account  of  stock. 

My  purchases  had  cost  a  total  of  $36.95. 

That  left  me  for  my  entire  capital  $63.05,  not  a  very 
great  amount  to  face  the  world  with,  and  as  I  had  burned 
to  the  last  splinter  my  bridges  there  was  no  one  to  turn 
to  for  anything.  But  for  the  first  time  in  years  I  had  a 
feeling  of  self-respect,  and  my  sense  of  joy  in  my  free- 
dom was  so  great  that  no  shadow  of  fear  or  apprehension 
crossed  it. 

I  looked  over  the  contents  of  my  trunk  and  made  a 
little  note  of  them.  There  were  two  suits— one  of  light- 
weight black,  one  of  very  dark  blue  cheviot;  a  heavy 
blue  mohair ;  a  black  nun 's  veiling ;  two  good,  serviceable 
moreen  underskirts  in  navy  blue  and  black;  six  entirely 
new  sets  of  linen  mesh  underwear ;  six  pairs  of  new  stock- 
ings; a  couple  of  dozen  new  handkerchiefs;  a  warm 
eiderdown  loose  gown;  two  cotton  crepe  kimonos;  six 
plain  wash  cheviot  shirtwaists  in  blue  and  blue-and- 
white  stripes;  a  half  dozen  plain  linen  turnover  collars; 

34 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

several  narrow  ties ;  four  night  dresses ;  two  pairs  of  cor- 
sets—all good,  strong,  plain;  those,  with  two  pairs  of 
walking  boots  and  a  pair  of  slippers,  filled  the  bottom  of 
the  trunk. 

The  tray  contained  a  dozen  volumes  of  my  old  favor- 
ites, my  working  outfit  of  paints,  brushes,  portfolio  of 
designs  and  my  writing  pad. 

My  grip  held  a  dark  blue  rain  coat,  rubbers,  leggings, 
and  a  plain  felt  hat.  These,  besides  the  clothes  I  had  on, 
constituted  my  entire  outfit. 

I  won't  have  to  get  a  rag  for  ages,  except  some  stock- 
ings, possibly,  so  now  for  a  long  time  to  come  shall  only 
have  to  look  out  for  rent  and  cost  of  living,  which  won't 
be  much,  thanks  be! 

My  palate  is  a  simple  one,  and  the  things  I  really  like 
best  are  the  things  that  cost  least. 

I  made  up  my  couch  bed,  took  a  sponge  bath,  and, 
opening  the  windows  wide,  went  quite  happily  to  bed 
with  no  pang  of  regret  for  the  luxuries  left  behind  in 
that  past  I  had  escaped  from. 

A  WEEK  LATER.    9TH— 

This  has  been  a  busy  week.  I  have  put  up  shelves  for 
my  books  and  housekeeping  outfit.  Hung  the  portieres, 
two  at  the  windows,  one  over  the  nails  holding  my 
clothes,  one  over  my  homemade  table.  Painted  my  floor 
a  dark  brown.  Bought  a  matting  rug  in  tan  and  dark 
green.  Made  a  screen  to  go  before  my  bath  outfit,  which 
consists  of  a  piece  of  hose  pipe  with  a  shower  attached 
and  a  tin  tub  to  stand  in  and  catch  the  water,  a  pair  of 
rubber  curtains  to  keep  the  water  from  splashing,  a 
board  across  two  trestles  to  hold  soap  dish,  toothbrush 
mug  and  brushes.  Bought  a  small  mirror  which  I  hung 
over  my  shelf.  Covered  my  screen,  whose  frame  is  a 
dollar  clothes-horse  painted  green  and  covered  with 
green  denim.  Bought  two  pots  of  bright  red  geranium 

35 


CHUMS 

for  my  windows.  Hemmed  a  piece  of  dish-toweling  and 
indulged  in  a  blue  and  white  enamel  dishpan.  Total 
expenditure,  six  dollars. 

Have  demonstrated  that  I  can  live  on  twenty-five  cents 
a  day  and  be  full  and  nourished,  and  see  my  capital 
dwindled  to  57.05  with  the  utmost  equanimity. 

On  Monday,  a  week  from  to-morrow,  I  shall  go  to  sev- 
eral of  the  addresses  I  have  and  try  for  some  work.  If 
I  can  get  the  plates  to  color  at  home  I  shall  like  that  best, 
as  I  intend  to  try  for  as  much  freedom  as  I  can  get  and 
am  not  ambitious  of  making  more  money  than  will  keep 
me  simply  and  give  me  something  each  month  towards  a 
nest  egg  for  the  proverbial  rainy  day.  The  dread  of 
being  ever  dependent  is  my  only  dread. 

A  stray  cat  came  crawling  over  the  leads  yesterday 
and  has  appropriated  me,  and  although  I  have  never 
cared  much  for  cats  this  one  was  so  determined  to  adopt 
me,  and,  after  a  tour  of  inspection,  so  evidently  pleased 
with  the  place  that  I  have  let  him  stay.  During  the 
night  he  must  have  gone  away  as  he  came,  for  upon  get- 
ting up  this  morning  I  found  him  gone,  but  about  eleven 
o'clock,  as  I  was  fastening  up  some  curtains  over  the 
clothes  hooks,  I  felt  something  rub  against  my  dress  and 
saw  his  Majesty,  arching  his  back  and  pressing  against 
me.  Gave  him  some  milk,  and  shall  make  him  a  cushion 
so  that  if  he  elects  to  remain,  or  even  come  a-visiting,  he 
can  feel  welcome.  He  has  big  yellow  eyes  and  a  fine  coat 
of  black  fur. 

My  landlady  is  inclined  to  be  very  interested  and 
neighborly.  She  spied  my  paints  and  brushes  this  morn- 
ing and  clapped  her  fat  hands  in  delight  to  find  that  I 
was  a  dauber ;  but  I  found  it  difficult  to  make  her  under- 
stand my  limitations.  She  immediately  jumped  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  had  come  into  the  quarter  to  get  mod- 
els, and  when  I  finally  got  her  to  understand  that  I  was 
only  a  colorist  of  other  people's  work,  I  could  see  that 
there  was  a  struggle  in  her  mind  to  keep  me  on  the  pedes- 

36 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

tal  upon  which  she  had  placed  me.  But  oh,  how  kind, 
how  more  than  kind  are  these  children  of  the  Land  of 
Sunshine !  And  when  one  has  the  passport  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  their  tongue  and  the  fellowship  of  poverty  there 
is  no  limit  to  their  friendliness. 

My  clothes  are  so  severely  plain  and  lacking  in  any 
color  or  adornment  that  amidst  the  gay  colored  silk 
waists  and  flower  trimmed  hats  of  the  Sunday  dress 
parade  of  the  quarter  I  am  an  unobtrusive  note  struck 
in  the  gorgeous  tone  of  color. 

I  saw  more  interesting  sights  in  an  hour's  stroll  with 
my  landlady  this  afternoon  than  one  would  see  in  a 
month  in  other  parts  of  the  city,  and  I  felt  the  limitation 
of  my  pencil.  I  saw  a  dozen  things  I  wanted  to  sketch 
in  as  many  minutes.  How  Phil  would  gloat  over  it  all ! 
It's  a  marvel  to  me  how  people  can  live  all  their  lives  in 
a  city  like  New  York  and  only  know  the  few  miles  of 
conventional  streets  and  houses,  and  with  such  chunks  of 
the  old  world  right  around  the  corner,  unnoticed,  un- 
known, I  suppose,  the  appreciation  of  it  given  up  to  a 
handful  of  artists. 

This  coming  week  I  shall  give  up  to  prowling.  I  want 
to  get  a  good  geographical  knowledge  of  this,  my  adopted 
quarter.  I  know  it  only  slightly  as  yet  and  I  want  to 
locate  little  junk-shops,  so  that  when  time  becomes  prec- 
ious and  I  am  in  harness  I  can  get  about  with  dispatch — 
during  those  precious  hours  I  intend  to  steal  from  my 
dollar-getting  to  be  joyous  in. 

I  find  that  I  must  guard  against  forming  friendships 
here  and  have  it  distinctly  understood  that  I  am  a  wage- 
earner,  whose  time  is  money,  else  all  of  these  genial  chil- 
dren of  a  larger  growth  will  be  settling  on  me  like  a 
swarm  of  locusts.  I  think  I  shall  have  to  talk  it  out  with 
my  landlady,  Mrs.  Caprieno,  and  get  her  to  be  my  angel 
with  the  flaming  sword. 

Just  now  there  is  a  heavenly  Indian  summer  glow  over 
everything,  and  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  in  a  few  weeks 

37 


CHUMS 

winter  will  be  upon  us.  Before  it  comes  I  must  have  my 
little  stove  moved  out  into  the  room  by  the  addition  of 
a  long  piece  of  stove  pipe,  for  the  heating  question  will 
be  of  moment  when  winter  is  finally  here,  and  if  I  am 
to  do  my  work  at  home,  as  I  hope  to,  that  means  con- 
tinual fire ;  but  the  little  stove  is  a  wonder,  gets  red  hot 
in  ten  minutes,  and  is  so  funny  and  important  about  it. 
I  shall  have  to  think  up  a  series  of  dishes  that  cost  little 
for  materials,  are  most  nourishing,  and  can  stew  away 
for  hours,  utilizing  the  heat  during  the  long  winter  days. 
The  only  trouble  is,  all  of  those  delectable  dishes  have 
onions  and  garlic  galore  in  them,  not  to  mention  the  suc- 
culent cabbage  and  turnips,  and  much  as  I  love  the 
dishes  I  do  hate  the  smells. 

Nov.  16,—. 

This  week  has  been  delightful.  I  have  made  acquaint- 
ance with  every  picturesque  character  within  a  radius  of 
a  square  mile,  and  oh,  my  mouth  waters  when  I  think  of 
the  little  shops  I  have  discovered !  Why,  some  of  it  looks 
like  virgin  ground  to  me,  and  yet  surely  it  could  not  be, 
with  collectors  using  the  "fine-tooth-comb  method"  all 
over  the  city.  Why,  I've  seen  heaps  of  coppers  and 
brasses  that  came  straight  from  their  birthplaces  in  the 
old  countries,  and  will  go  straight  into  my  den  when  I 
have  earned  the  right  to  them. 

Tomorrow  I  take  up  the  yoke.  Had  rather  thought  of 
giving  myself  another  week,  but  my  capital  has  dwindled 
to  fifty-three  dollars,  owing  to  some  further  purchases, 
and  I  think  I  will  open  an  account  with  fifty  tomorrow 
at  the Savings  Union,  and  dawdle  no  longer. 

Had  my  stove,  which  I  have  christened  "Martha," 
moved  out  three  feet  and  a  zinc  put  under  it ;  that  leaves 
room  behind  it  for  the  coal  box,  whose  brass  corners  and 
hinges  and  nails  have  been  polished.  It  holds  the  sup- 
ply for  a  week.  Mrs.  Caprieno  has  allowed  me  to  use 
half  of  her  outside  coal  bin  for  my  reserve  stock,  which 

38 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

will  last  three  weeks,  and  as  the  weather  has  in  a  few 
days  grown  very  cold  and  I  have  had  to  keep  Martha 
busy  all  day,  I  know  to  a  coal  how  much  it  will  take  to 
keep  me  comfortable. 

I  have  made  an  admirable  chiffonier  from  a  drygoods 
box,  putting  three  shelves  in  it  and  covering  it  with 
green  linen.  I  had  a  hole  made  in  the  small  tin  tub  un- 
der my  shower  and  had  it  connected  with  the  drain  pipe, 
so  that  the  water  can  run  off  at  its  own  sweet  will. 

I  have  decided  to  institute  a  "pot  au  feu,"  which  will 
utilize  the  heat  and  always  give  me  soup.  The  top  of 
Martha  just  holds  it  and  the  tea  kettle  at  the  same  time 
and  I  can  broil  or  toast  through  the  sliding  doors  over  a 
bed  of  red  hot  coals  when  I  want  to  be  particularly  fes- 
tive. Out  on  the  landing  there  is  a  sink  and  there  I  can 
peel  my  vegetables,  and  anything  I  cannot  burn  in  the 
way  of  refuse  (there's  mighty  little,  I  find— principally 
tea  leaves  and  coffee  grounds),  I  take  down  to  the  ash- 
barrel  in  the  alley. 

All  of  these  people  have  learned  the  A  B  G  of  econ- 
omy, and  it  is  surprising  to  see  how  small  is  the  waste; 
in  fact  there  is  no  waste,  strictly  speaking. 

They  are  not  at  all  a  spendthrift  race,  as  is  generally 
supposed;  on  the  contrary,  everything  is  made  to  count 
and  everyone  of  them  is  the  possessor  of  a  small  bank  ac- 
count and  is  thrifty  and  self-respecting. 

Poverty  is  not  at  all  dreadful  under  the  methods  prev- 
alent here,  and  is  only  poverty  ' '  comparative, ' '  quite  un- 
like that  of  the  districts  infested  by  the  Poles  and  Rus- 
sians around  the  corner.  And  what  adorable  cheerful- 
ness and  merriment  they  possess !  In  this  house  of  four 
stories  are  living  six  families,  all  Italians,  with  an  aver- 
age of  four  children  to  the  family,  and  yet  I  have  not 
seen  anything  but  kindliness  and  courtesy  or  heard  any- 
thing but  cheerful  laughter  and  gossip.  Even  the  babies 
—perfect  little  darlings  most  of  them— are  friendly  with 
me  and  hold  out  grubby,  fat  little  hands  in  greeting. 

39 


CHUMS 

In  the  next  house  live  the  Torrelli's,  the  fruit  stall 
people  whose  mother  is  Mrs.  Caprieno,  and  their  house 
is  equally  crowded.  Occupying  the  attic  room  corre- 
sponding to  mine  is  a  little  woman,  a  hunchback,  who 
has  the  most  beautiful  eyes  I  have  ever  seen.  We  are 
on  greeting  terms,  having  met  at  the  stall  making  our 
purchases.  Little  Mrs.  Torrelli  tells  me  that  she  works 
in  an  artificial  flower  making  establishment  and  has  lived 
in  their  house  for  five  years ;  that  she  plays  the  violin  and 
often  is  engaged  to  play  for  the  people  in  the  quarter 
at  weddings  and  festive  gatherings;  that  no  one  knows 
anything  about  her  beyond  her  name,  her  occupation  and 
her  musical  gift,  but  everyone  likes  and  respects  her. 
Her  nationality  is  unknown,  she  speaks  Italian  well,  like- 
wise French,  but  it  is  generally  believed  that  she  is  a 
Russian.  Am  greatly  attracted  to  her.  I  wonder  if  she 
will  let  me  be  friendly.  I  will  try  it  anyway,  I  can't  get 
more  than  a  rebuff.  Those  beautiful  soft  eyes  haunt  me. 
A  something  of  wistfulness  in  them  makes  me  feel  that 
I  will  succeed. 

This  is  the  commencement  of  my  third  week  in  my  new 
home  and  I  begin  to  feel  that  it  is  truly  "home":  my 
row  of  books  on  their  shelf,  the  various  articles  placed 
to  the  best  advantage,  little  Martha  glowing,  the  tea  ket- 
tle singing  and  "his  Majesty,"  who  by  now  has  quite 
settled  it  in  his  mind  that  this  is  his  domicile,  lying  on 
the  cushion  I  have  made  him,  my  lamp  burning  clearly 
upon  the  table  on  which  my  writing  and  painting  things 
are  spread,  all  give  me  the  feeling  that  it  is  home. 

Nov.  23,- 

Monday  dawned,  if  a  weak  and  yellowish,  watery  gray 
could  be  called  dawn,  and  by  ten  had  definitely  decided 
to  do  its  worst  for  awhile.  Watching  the  downpour,  I 
debated  the  advisability  of  staying  warmly  and  comfort- 
ably at  home,  but  the  realization  that  I  had  entered  the 
ranks  of  the  workers  and  could  not  afford  to  be  kept  at 

40 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

home  by  a  bit  of  weather,  likewise  that  only  three  dollars 
and  two  cents  stood  between  me  and  no  "pot  au  feu," — 
as  I  had  determined  that  I  would  not  draw  a  cent  of  that 
poor  little  fifty  dollars— decided  me.  I  put  on  a  short 
skirt,  my  rain  coat  and  rubbers,  opened  my  umbrella  and 
made  a  dash  for  a  car.  Had  two  blocks  to  walk  after  I 
got  off  the  car,  and  arrived  at  my  destination — the  Pub- 
lishing House  of  S—  -  and  Sons,  looking,  I  suppose, 
very  rakish  indeed,  for  the  wind  had  risen  to  a  gale  and 
buffeted  and  shaken  me  so  that  I  felt  grateful  to  arrive 
entire,  if  a  trifle  wild  in  appearance.  My  umbrella  had, 
with  "the  pure  cussedness  of  inanimate  things"  at  in- 
opportune moments,  simply  turned  up  its  ribs  and  given 
up  the  ghost,  but  the  struggle  with  the  elements  had 
awakened  the  fighting  spirit  in  me  and  I  felt  equal  to  in- 
terviewing a  whole  regiment  of  publishers  or  their  hench- 
men. 

A  meek,  bespectacled,  small,  blond  man  came  to  my 
rescue  as  I  was  wandering  about  looking  for  anything  in 
the  way  of  a  sign  that  would  lead  me  to  the  presence  of 
one  of  the  elect.  (For  I  had  decided  that  I  would  have 
speech  with  a  superior  if  possible,  though  he  be  ever  so 
awe-inspiring.  When  I  had  stated  my  errand,  he  very  civ- 
illy showed  me  into  the  office  of  Mr.  "Warren,  who  turned 
out  afterward  to  be  in  control  of  the  particular  depart- 
ment I  was  determined  to  join  and  whom  likewise,  on 
further  acquaintance,  I  found  to  be  a  very  benevolent 
and  kindly  man,  whose  hoarse  huskiness  of  voice  and 
fierce,  bewhiskered  countenance  absolutely  belied  him. 

Being  as  businesslike  as  possible,  I  stated  my  desire  to 
be  enrolled  upon  the  books  of  S—  -  and  Sons  as  colorer 
of  plates.  Showed  the  half  dozen  I  had  brought  with 
me  as  examples  of  my  work,  and  stated  that  I  was  also 
equal  to  executing  fine  work  in  capital  illuminating. 

Mr.  Warren  looked  at  the  work  carefully  and  then,  ex- 
cusing himself,  went  into  an  inner  room  and  was  gone 
some  time. 

I  amused  myself  in  looking  over  a  quantity  of  colored 

/ 
41 


CHUMS 

plates,  mounted  and  otherwise,  mostly  wretched  work, 
and  read  over  a  prospectus  for  a  new  subscription  of 
's  works,  which  they  were  to  be  used  for. 

I  was  still  looking  with  a  feeling  of  amusement,  tem- 
pered by  astonishment  at  the  taste  of  a  public  that  would 
submit  to  having  its  mental  pabulum  given  it  illustrated 
so  fearfully  and  wonderfully,  when  Mr.  Warren  came 
back  into  the  room  bringing  another  man,  who  said,  with- 
out waiting  for  anything  in  the  way  of  an  introduction 
and  in  the  hurried  manner  of  a  man  who  has  not  a  mo- 
ment to  spare, — 

' '  Very  good  work.  How  many  plates,  six  by  four  and 
a  half,  can  you  do  in  a  day?" 

I  gasped  a  little,  then,  copying  his  tense  tone  and  man- 
ner, said,— 

"Depends  entirely  upon  the  finish  of  the  plates, — 
some  paper  works  more  quickly  than  other, — and  upon 
the  quality  of  the  work.  This  kind  of  work,"  pointing 
to  the  mounted  plates,  "I  could  not  do  at  all,  not  if  any 
amount  of  time  was  given  me.  It  takes  a  quality  of  tal- 
ent I  do  not  possess. ' ' 

He  looked  at  me  in  an  amazed  way  for  a  moment,  then 
I  saw  the  ghost  of  a  smile  twitch  the  corner  of  his  lips 
under  the  ragged  mustaches,  and  his  words  were  a  trifle 
less  hurried,  as  he  answered, — 

"Well,  no.  Not  like  those,  but  like  these,"  pointing 
to  my  own  plates. 

I  made  a  rapid  calculation  and  decided  that  I  could 
do  twelve. 

"I  think  that  if  you  will  allow  me  to  take  the  work 
home,  where  I  can  be  free  from  all  interruptions,  I  can 
do  seventy  in  a  week.  Not  exactly  as  detailed  work  as 
those,  but  to  the  person  other  than  a  professional,  equally 
good.  The  quality  of  that  work  is  suitable  only  for 
de  luxe  editions,  and  is  worth  at  least  ten  times  more. 
Would  you  mind  giving  me  the  work  to  do  in  my 
studio?" 

42 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

I  nearly  came  to  grief  over  that  word,  for  a  vision  of 
the  room  during  some  of  its  times  of  stress,  such  as  ra- 
gout day  and  wash  day,  was  very  clear,  but  I  thought  I 
kept  all  signs  of  laughter  out  of  my  voice  and  eyes. 

He  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  during  which  my  heart 
did  unpleasant  things,  and  then  said,— 

"No,  that  would  be  satisfactory." 

And  then  we  got  down  to  dollars.  "We  finally  agreed 
upon  a  basis  that  will  give  me  about  fifty  dollars  a  month 
if  I  work  five  hours  daily.  Of  course,  if  I  get  mercenary 
and  fall  into  the  money-getting  fever  I  can  double  or 
treble  it,  but  what  I  want  to  do  is  to  earn  enough  to  live 
simply  on  without  giving  all  of  my  precious  time  to 
grubbing. 

I  left  my  address,  which  I  think  seemed  an  odd  one  to 
them  both,  for  again  I  caught  the  tip  end  of  that  smile, — 
and  I  brought  back  my  first  week 's  allowance  of  plates. 

It  had  stopped  raining  when  I  left  the  building,  but 
the  clouds  looked  threatening  and  heavy,  so  I  decided  to 
walk  along  the  line  of  the  cars  that  I  might  get  on  board 
one  if  it  suddenly  began  to  pour.  I  hung  my  portfolio 
under  the  cape  of  my  rain  coat  by  the  straps  and  walked 
briskly  along.  I  do  love  to  be  out  on  a  rainy  day  if  I  am 
in  proper  rig  for  it.  I  had  nearly  reached  home  when 
it  came  down  in  torrents,  and  as  my  umbrella  was  useless, 
I  pulled  the  cowl  of  my  coat  over  my  hat  and  ran  for  it. 
Stopped  in  to  buy  some  bananas  at  the  Torrellrs  and 
told  my  good  news. 

I  showed  my  colored  plates  to  little  Mrs.  T and 

she  called  to  Mr.  T .  They  were  as  interested  and 

delighted  as  could  be  and  made  me  feel  quite  as  though  I 
were  in  the  bosom  of  a  large  and  appreciative  family, 
which  is  delightful  and  has  none  of  the  disadvantages  of 
reality. 

The  light  in  my  "studio"  is  perfect  and  good  even  on 
a  dark  day,  but  the  days  are  so  short  that  I  shall  not  in- 
dulge in  any  prowls  until  late  afternoons,  say  from 

43 


CHUMS 

four  until  six  or  half -past,  then  all  of  the  hours  of  good 
light  I  can  give  up  to  work  and  with  a  most  clear  con- 
science spend  the  rest  doing  my  own  sweet  will. 

Nov.  30,— 

Thanksgiving  Day  was  the  stormiest  one  I  remember 
ever  to  have  seen.  As  I  had  laid  in  my  "turkey"  (which 
was  a  fat  chicken  which  I  pot-roasted,  and  a  most  delect- 
able dish  it  was  when  it  came  to  the  festive  board)  and 
having  nothing  to  take  me  abroad  I  settled  to  a  nice 
cosy  day  with  Martha  doing  her  noblest. 

His  Majesty,  adorned  with  a  large  tartan  bow  in  honor 
of  the  occasion ;  an  all  pervading  steaminess  of  preparing 
dinner — when  I  suddenly  thought  of  my  little  neighbor 
of  the  next  house,  wondered  if  she  was  alone  and  lonely, 
opened  my  window  and  leaned  far  out  and  tapped  on  the 
glass  of  her  window  with  my  umbrella  handle. 

Presently  the  window  was  opened  and  my  neighbor 
looked  out.  I  said, — 

"Oh,  Miss  Vostand,  I'm  just  woefully  lonely,  won't 
you  take  pity  on  me  and  come  over  and  be  neighborly  ? ' ' 

She  flushed  up  and  then  said  in  her  nice  little  way, — 

' '  Oh,  I  should  so  love  to,  but  I  have  a  wreath  to  finish 
today  and  I  can't."  Then  she  added,  shyly,— "Won't 
you  come  up  to  me,  I  should  be  so  glad  to  have  you. ' ' 

My  vision  of  a  nice  comfy  "slipper  and  kimono"  day 
fled,  but  there  was  something  so  wistful  in  those  lovely 
eyes  that  I  said  yes.  And  twenty  minutes  later  arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  third  flight  next  door  breathless  and 
laden,  for  I  had  decided  to  take  my  dinner  with  me,  and 
some  work. 

She  opened  the  door  and  welcomed  me  laughingly  as 
I  explained  my  laden  condition. 

It  was  a  cozy  little  room  with  an  open  grate  fire,  sim- 
ple as  mine  in  its  furnishings  and  not  unlike,  except  that 
she  had  many  more  books  and  her  walls  were  less  bare. 

44 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

Her  table  was  covered  with  a  litter  of  bright  rose  leaves 
and  the  various  tools  of  her  trade.  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  a  violin-case  on  a  stand,  and  piles  of  music. 

After  I  had  deposited  my  various  packages— the  tight- 
ly covered  chicken-pot  on  the  side-iron  in  the  grate  to 
keep  warm,  the  mince  pie  on  top  of  it, — I  put  my  box  of 
paints  on  the  end  of  her  work  table  and  my  portfolio 
near  by,  sank  down  on  the  chair  she  gave  me,  caught 
my  breath,  and  shortly  we  were  talking  away  as  though 
we  had  always  known  each  other. 

Her  name  is  Nora  Vostand— her  mother  was  Irish,  her 
father  Russian,  and  she  is  American  by  birth,  but  has 
lived  many  years  abroad.  She  did  not  go  into  the  fam- 
ily history  but  I  rather  fancy  it  is  interesting. 

She  makes  artificial  flowers,  roses  so  perfect  one  would 
swear  they  were  real,  and  says  that  she  loves  her  trade. 
I  saw  also  some  water-color  sketches  she  had  done  of 
flowers,  and  they  were  marvelous.  She  modestly  admit- 
ted that  she  was  supposed  to  be  the  best  rose  maker  in 
New  York,  when  I  exclaimed  over  their  perfection.  I 
told  her  of  my  experience  since  coming  here  and  of  my 
trade,  and  as  we  laughed  and  compared  notes,  chatted 
of  our  work  and  tastes,  we  found  that  we  had  many 
things  in  common. 

We  had  both  seen  much  of  the  old  world  and  both  in- 
tended to  go  back  some  day. 

"But,"  as  she  said, — "if  it  is  necessary  to  earn  money 
America  is  the  place  to  do  it  in;  and  it  is  necessary  for 
me  to  do  so, ' '  she  added. 

"And  for  me"  I  supplemented,  "it's  earn  or  starve. 
I've  not  a  cent  in  the  world  but  fifty  lone  dollars,  but  I 
can  earn  what  I  need  and  not  give  up  all  of  my  precious 
time  to  it  either,  I  have  discovered. ' ' 

She  sighed. 

"Oh,  how  lucky,  that's  the  only  thing  I  really  long 
for,  more  leisure ;  but  I  must  always  make  a  certain  sum 
monthly  and  to  do  it,  it  means  eight  to  ten  hours,  a  day, 

45 


CHUMS 

although  I  get  very  well  paid,"  she  said,  "but  I  have 
others  dependent  upon  me." 

My  contribution  to  the  festivities  had  been  the  chicken 
pot-roast  and  a  mince  pie.  She  had  macaroni,  Neapoli- 
tan, and  with  those  and  bread  and  butter  we  dined  sump- 
tuously and  merrily. 

I  found  her  delightful  as  I  had  expected,  and  after  we 
had  finished  dinner  she  played  to  me,  oh  such  music! 
and  I  straightway  went  to  paradise  and  stayed  there 
dreaming  dreams  and  seeing  visions.  Music  always  has 
that  effect  on  me  and  I  am  a  little  afraid  of  it  for  that 
reason. 

Finally  the  twilight  fell  and  we  sat  before  the  fire  and 
'  reminisced. ' 

At  five  we  made  tea  and  then  she  lighted  the  lamp 
(one  of  those  water  globe  lamps  that  are  so  much  used 
in  the  old  countries  like  the  one  Balzac  describes  in 
Une  Double  Famille)  and  she  worked  on  the  delayed 
wreath  whilst  I  read  aloud.  We  were  in  a  Dickens  mood 
and  I  read  pet  bits  from  half-a-dozen  books. 

Finally  at  nine  o'clock  I  packed  my  traps  and  after  a 
hearty  good  night  I  groped  my  way  down-stairs,  out  for 
a  shivering  instant  into  the  street,  to  my  own  door  and 
up  my  own  stairs. 

Martha  had  felt  the  lack  of  attention  and  subsided 
into  the  black  sulks,  so  I  made  a  hasty  toilet  and  got  into 
bed  as  quickly  as  possible  and  his  Majesty  came  and 
crawled  up  on  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

The  storm  raged  for  three  days  and  I  worked  hard, 
only  going  out  for  a  brisk  walk  at  five  each  day,  and 
then  only  on  our  own  block,  for  it  is  quite  dark  by  that 
time  now,  and  whilst  I  have  no  fear,  still  I  am  not  yet 
quite  acclimated  to  my  new  quarters  and  near  us  is  a  dis- 
trict given  up  to  a  very  rough  element.  So  I  walk  furi- 
ously up  and  down  for  an  hour  and  then  come  in  feeling 
fresh  and  stimulated  by  the  sharp  air  and  exercise,  and 
light  my  lamp,  shake  up  Martha  to  the  full  realization  of 

46 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

her  duty  and  get  myself  my  supper  at  about  six-thirty; 
then  settle  to  a  nice  long  evening  of  reading. 

Up  to  Saturday  had  not  seen  my  little  neighbor,  ex- 
cept as  we  leaned  from  our  respective  windows  for  a 
word  of  greeting. 

Took  back  my  first  batch  of  plates,  got  a  new  supply 
and  received  my  first  payment,  twelve-eighty. 

Stopped  and  bought  two  books  I  had  had  my  eye  on 
for  a  week  at  the  bit  of  an  old  book  shop  on  -  —  St. 
One  was  a  Robinson  Crusoe  in  French,  an  odd  volume 
of  a  set  of  "Voyage  Imaginaire,"  fine  old  calf  binding, 

good  tooling,  big  print,  four  copper  etchings  by , 

the  date  of  publication  1787.  The  other,  an  odd  volume 
of  Le  Sage,  Le  Diable  Boiteaux,  very  similar  in  bind- 
ings and  plates,  both  in  excellent  condition.  Paid  fifty 
cents  for  the  two.  Being  odd  volumes,  the  shopman  had 
put  them  in  the  twenty-five  cent  box,  which  showed  his 
ignorance,  but  I  could  have  jumped  for  joy,  I  was  so  de- 
lighted. Please  the  fates,  I  shall  have  many  of  my  old 
favorites  about  me  again.  Yes,  decidedly  it  was  harder 
to  give  up  my  dearly  beloved  books  than  everything  else 
put  together. 

When  I  went  to  the  office  of  S and  Sons  yesterday, 

it  being  a  radiant  cold  clear  day,  I  put  on  my  best  suit, 
hat,  gloves,  and  shoes  and  walked.  Already  the  Christ- 
inas feel  is  in  the  air  and  the  streets  and  shops  are  very 
much  alive.  I  had  great  fun,  as  usual,  watching  the 
crowds,  and  committed  a  fierce  extravagance,  bought  a 
bunch  of  violets.  Only  a  tiny  bunch  to  be  sure,  for  I 
paid  but  fifty  cents  for  them  and  I  shall  discipline  my- 
self for  two  days  now  and  allow  myself  no  butter.  Vio- 
lets in  December!  And  in  New  York!  Just  wanton 
luxury. 

After  I  had  been  to  the  office  I  wandered  up  Broadway 
and  in  watching  one  pretty  victoria,  with  its  sable-furred 
occupant,  I  smiled  to  think  how  short  a  time  ago  I,  too, 
was  riding  behind  just  such  a  pair  of  fine  bay  horses, 

47- 


CHUMS 

bored,  unhappy,  and  my  smile  must  have  looked  recogni- 
tion, for  the  eyes  of  the  occupant  of  the  victoria  met  mine 
in  a  puzzled  stare. 

After  I  had  walked  up  as  far  as  Thirty-second  St.,  I 
turned  east  and  at  Fourth  Avenue  took  a  down-town  car 
home.  Before  going  up  to  my  room,  I  went  up  to  Miss 
Vostand's  and  finding  her  at  home  begged  a  cup  of  tea. 
She  dropped  her  work  and  we  talked  and  chatted. 

We  decided  to  have  a  board  put  up  long  enough  to  go 
from  her  window  to  mine,  so  that  we  could  be  really 
neighborly  and  ''swap  pie"  occasionally,  and  we  ex- 
changed recipes  for  good  substantial  dishes,  whose  value 
was  in  their  minimum  cost  and  maximum  goodness  and 
nourishment.  I  told  her  that  I  had  found  it  possible  to 
live  wholesomely  and  have  the  dishes  I  liked  best  on  two 
dollars  a  week. 

She  said  that  she  could  not  quite  do  that,  it  cost  her 
about  three  dollars,  so  I  promised  to  write  out  a  list  of 
dishes  for  her.  She  has  not  the  gift  of  getting  the  value 
out  of  a  dollar  that  I  have  and  I  strongly  suspect  does 
not  have  the  right  kind  of  food  most  times;  lives  alto- 
gether too  much  on  tea-crackers-and-jam  diet,  which  is 
all  wrong. 

Last  night  as  I  sat  reading,  waiting  for  Martha  to  cool 
down  a  trifle  before  bedtime,  Madame  Caprieno  came  to 
my  door  and  said  that  the  Torrelli  baby  was  dying,  and 
the  poor  old  thing  was  wringing  her  hands  and  wailing 
in  a  heart-broken  way.  I  caught  up  my  cloak  and 
rushed  down-stairs  and  into  the  next  house,  where,  in  the 
kitchen,  I  found  what  looked  like  the  entire  Italian  col- 
ony gathered.  The  baby,  a  darling  about  a  year  old,  was 
apparently  strangling  and  as  I  heard  the  hoarse  sound, 
I  recognized  the  presence  of  the  dread  croup. 

I  asked  for  the  doctor,  and  was  told  that  he  had  been 
sent  for  but  had  not  come  -,  so  I  took  the  matter  into  my 
own  hands,  sent  the  husband  to  the  chemist's  at  the  cor- 


48 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

ner  for  caustic,  ordered  hot  water,  flannels,  and  all  of  the 
people  out  of  the  room,  for  the  air  was  completely  ex- 
hausted of  oxygen.  Opened  a  window  and  placed  a  cov- 
ered chair-back  as  a  screen.  Finally  when  I  thought  the 
time  had  come  to  use  the  acid,  I  did,  and  the  poor,  blessed 
baby  was  relieved. 

An  hour  after,  when  the  fuss  was  all  over  and  the  baby 
sleeping  in  a  warm  nest  of  flannels,  the  air  in  the  room 
pure,  every  one  out  of  it  but  the  poor,  prostrate  little 
mother  and  the  father  and  myself,  the  doctor  came.  I 
told  him  what  I  had  done  and  he  gave  a  long,  low  whistle, 
then  said, — 

"Well,  it  has  saved  the  baby,  but  how  came  you  to 
dare  to  do  it?" 

I  only  looked  at  him  with  full  eyes.  I  could  not  tell 
him  that  I  had  lost  my  own  baby,  long  ago,  because  I  had 
not  dared  to  do  it  then;  but  he  evidently  guessed  some- 
thing of  the  sort  and  said  nothing  further. 

He  is  rather  a  remarkable  chap  for  a  settlement  man, 
big  and  brawny  with  a  strong,  kind  face,  gentle,  deep 
voice  and  the  air  of  a  gentleman.  My  landlady  tells  me 
he  is  a  great  favorite  and  has  immense  influence  over  the 
-  Ward  lot,  probably  the  worst  ward  in  all  of  New 
York. 

He  hustled  us  all  off  to  bed,  saying  that  he  would  sit 
with  the  baby's  mother  for  another  hour,  but  that  the 
danger  was  over  for  this  attack.  So  the  halls  cleared 
and  people  went  to  their  several  rooms,  the  dear,  kind 
things  that  they  are!  Every  mother,  father,  sister  and 
brother  and  their  relatives  a  dozen  times  removed,  were 
as  anxious  as  though  the  baby  was  a  personal  possession. 

I  found  Nora  Vostand  sitting  shivering  on  the  top  step 
of  the  lower  flight  and  took  her  home.  Made  a  pot  of 
coffee,  toasted  some  bread  and  we  had  a  midnight  spread, 
for  just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  it  the  bells  rang. 

Martha  had  kept  up  her  neat  little  fire  whilst  I  was 


49 


CHUMS 

gone  and  the  room  was  warm  and  cosy.  It  was  the  first 
time  that  Nora  Vostand  had  been  in  it  and  she  looked 
over  it  approvingly  and  said,— 

' '  Our  rooms  are  very  similar,  are  they  not,  even  to  the 
disposition  of  the  furniture?" 

I  showed  her  my  book  finds  which  she  thought  lovely, 
and  we  agreed  that  much  could  be  done  in  the  collecting 
line,  given  the  real  spirit,  a  mite  of  money,  and  time  to 
prowl.  We  promised  ourselves  an  afternoon  off  some 
time  to  go  "copper"  hunting  together. 

At  one  o  'clock  we  said  good-bye  and  bemoaned  the  fact 
that  there  was  no  door  between  our  houses  on  the  top 
floor  to  save  all  those  long  stairs. 

I  went  to  see  the  baby  to-day  and  the  way  I  was  wel- 
comed by  the  family  made  me  feel  very  chokey.  We 
all  had  a  nice  comfortable  weep  together,  then  cheered 
up.  The  blessed  kiddy  was  quite  herself,  only  a  trifle 
weak,  and  smiled  and  made  big  eyes  at  me.  What  rav- 
ishingly  lovely  babies  these  people  have.  They  may 
grow  into  very  ordinary  looking  boys  and  girls,  but  as 
babies  they  are  certainly  perfect  cherubs. 

Decided  I  would  write  to  Phil.  She  will  keep  mum 
about  me  and  I  want  her  to  know  that  I  am  all  right  in 
all  ways  and  happier  than  I  have  been  in  years;  and 
after  awhile  I  will  write  to  Kathie,  but  not  just  yet.  I 
saw  the  notice  of  her  baby's  birth  and  I  can  imagine  the 
jubilation  at  Farringdon  Hall,  over  this  tiny  heir  to  the 
millions. 

On  Saturday,  a  perfect  day,  I  allowed  myself  the  af- 
ternoon. After  taking  my  finished  work  to  the  office  I 
just  "played  hookey."  Went  to  Brentano's  and  looked 
at  all  of  the  new  holiday  editions.  Stopped  in  at  Gou- 
pil's  and  reveled  in  etchings,  engravings  and  aquarelles 
to  my  heart 's  content,  salving  my  conscience  for  not  buy- 
ing by  telling  the  clerks  that  I  was  "only  looking,  had 
not  yet  decided."  Went  to  see  an  exhibition  of  water 
colors.  Finally,  at  four-thirty,  after  having  walked 

50 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

miles  it  seemed,  seen  all  sorts  of  things  of  interest  and 
beauty,  of  luxury  and  uselessness,  (although  to  me  any- 
thing that  pleases  the  eye  is  useful)  I  turned  contentedly 
homeward.  And  when  I  got  to  my  door,  with  my  arms 
filled  with  packages,— for  I  had  stopped  to  do  my  Sun- 
day marketing, — I  found  my  door  knob  adorned  with 
four  big  bananas,  two  huge  California  oranges  and  a 
string  of  the  tiny,  fat  little  nut  sausages  the  Italians  love, 
all  hanging  by  strings.  As  I  took  them  off,  I  found  un- 
derneath them  all,  a  tiny  silk  scapula,  with  an  embroi- 
dered silk  picture  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  Child.  From 
the  corner  of  my  eye,  I  could  see  that  my  landlady's 
door  was  opened  the  width  of  an  eye  and  I  heard  asth- 
matic breathing,  so  I.  knew  whence  had  come  my  treas- 
ures. I  exclaimed  (in  Italian)  my  surprise  and  pleasure 
and  heard  a  delighted  fat  chuckle  as  I  closed  my  own 
door. 

I  put  the  fruit  on  my  one  Dresden  plate,  a  recent  find. 
My  sausages  went  into  a  saucepan  to  cook  for  my  supper, 
and  I  hung  the  lovely  bit  of  needlework  over  my  work- 
table  where  my  eyes  could  feast  on  it. 

As  I  had  missed  my  tea  I  treated  myself  to  a  tea-sup- 
per, toasted  muffins  and  tea,  sausages,  and  a  salad. 
Later,  when  I  went  out  on  the  landing  to  get  some  coal, 
I  gave  my  jolly  landlady,  who  was  hovering  there,  a  good 
hug,  which  pleased  her  mightily.  Before  going  to  bed  I 
knocked  on  my  neighbor's  window  and  asked  her  to  have 
dinner  with  me  the  next  day. 

DEC.  14,— 

This  week  has  been  a  delightful  one.  First  in  import- 
ance, I  have  met  a  woman  I  want  to  know  better.  She  is 
a  friend  of  Nora's  and  a  worker  in  the  settlement. 

Then  I  had  a  long  talk  with  the  baby 's  doctor,  who,  it 
seems,  is  also  a  friend  of  Nora's. 

I  am  working  on  the  plates  for  a  limited  edition  de 

51 


CHUMS 

grand  luxe,  which  will  pay  me  very  well.  Had  a  long 
talk  with  Mr.  W.,  and  found  him  very  interesting.  Very 
different  in  reality  from  what  I  had  judged  him  that 
first  time  I  met  him. 

Have  had  Nora  once  to  dinner  and  been  to  tea  with 
her  twice,  and  discovered  that  if  I  do  not  look  out  I  shall 
get  to  love  her;  and  I  swear  that  I  will  not  love  anyone 
again.  I  am  going  in  for  the  "Universal  Brotherhood" 
proposition.  No  chance  of  getting  one's  illusions  shat- 
tered, cause  why?  One  has  none  to  shatter;  and  no 
chance  to  be  given  heartaches,  because,  so  far  as  I  can 
make  out,  one's  heart  seems  to  sort  of  shrivel  up  and 
atrophy,  at  least  that  is  the  way  the  Universal  folk  al- 
ways strike  me.  They  seem  to  run  more  to  liver  than  to 
heart  and  it  goes  to  their  complexions.  All  I  have  ever 
seen  look  sort  of  muddy  and  in  need  of  face  steaming, 
but  they  certainly  wear  complacency  as  a  garment,  and  I 
suppose  a  little  matter  of  complexion  is  not  too  much  to 
pay  for  feeling  one 's  self  superior. 

On  Saturday,  I  am  to  "tea"  the  doctor,  Nora,  and  her 
friend,  Miss  Farrish,  and  shall  do  my  cleaning  on  Fri- 
day, that  my  small  castle  may  be  shining. 

J 
DEC.  22,— 

This  week  has  been  stormy  again ;  almost  a  blizzard  it 
amounted  to  on  Thursday  and  Friday  and  I  feared  it 
would  continue,  there  seemed  no  let  up  on  Friday  night, 
as  I  looked  out  before  going  to  bed. 

All  the  week  I  had  worked  like  a  "nailer,"  (don't 
know  just  what  a  "nailer"  is,  but  it  sounds  emphatic) 
and  I  finished  my  weekly  number  of  plates  and  subsi- 
dized the  small  son  of  my  second  floor  neighbor  to  take 
them  to  the  office  for  me.  Then  had  alternate  chills  and 
fever  as  my  active  imagination  painted  harrowing  pic- 
tures of  their  being  lost,  although  I  had  pinned  them  in- 
side his  coat  with  three  large  safety  pins ;  of  their  getting 

52 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

wet  and  spoiled,  although  I  had  wrapped  them  well  in  a 
silk  handkerchief  and  some  waxed  paper ;  had  visions  of 
losing  my  job,  delaying  the  edition,  all  kinds  of  horrors, 
until  he  returned  two  hours  after  I  had  started  him,  with 
a  fresh  batch  of  plates  done  up  in  the  same  way  and  a 
little  scrawl  from  Mr.  W.,  enclosing  the  money  and  his 
expression  of  satisfaction  with  the  plates. 

In  my  delight  at  finding  my  fears  groundless,  I  added 
twenty-five  cents  and  a  worsted  scarf  to  the  original  stip- 
ulated sum,  plus  several  compliments  on  his  trustworthi- 
ness, although  I  had  grave  doubts  of  the  truthfulness  of 
his  story  of  going  and  returning  without  having  stopped ; 
but,  anyway,  the  errand  had  been  done  and  if  he  did  not 
altogether  deserve  the  compliment  he  probably  will  try 
to  some  other  time.  I  know  undeserved  praise  always 
did  affect  me  that  way  when  I  was  a  child. 

When  my  company  came,  all  three  together  at  four- 
thirty  on  Saturday,  I  was  ready  for  them. 

I  had  everything  polished  that  could  be  polished  and 
Martha  was  doing  her  noblest ;  the  muffins  had  toasted  to 
perfection  and  were  getting  nice  and  "butter  steamy" 
under  their  cover.  I  had  borrowed  two  cups  and  sau- 
cers through  the  window  from  Nora;  the  geraniums  in 
the  windows  were  blooming;  my  work-table  was  convert- 
ed into  an  afternoon  tea-table  and  spread  with  a  white 
hemstitched  cloth,  the  blue  and  white  tea  service,  and  a 
dish  of  fruit ;  and  in  a  little  vase  was  one  perfect  Mare- 
chal  Niel  rose,  which  I  had  bought  a  tight  little  bud  but 
three  days  before,  and  had  watered  and  warmed  and 
loved  into  bursting  into  a  great  creamy  fragrant  flower. 

Oh,  what  a  wonderful  thing  is  affinity !  every  friend  I 
have  ever  had  has  been  recognized  from  the  first  meet- 
ing, and  after  my  guests  had  left  Saturday  I  sat  think- 
ing happily  that  I  had  again  met  "my  own."  There 
was  to  be  no  loneliness  for  me,  on  the  contrary  a  fulness 
of  life  and  interest. 

Our  talk  had  touched  on  many  things;  books,  the  col- 

53 


CHUMS 

lector's  instinct,  music,  travel,  and  finally  had  settled 
down  to  a  telling  of  anecdote  and  story,  all  taken  from 
their  life  and  work  in  the  settlement:  fun  and  pathos, 
with  bits  of  pretty  stirring  melodrama  at  times. 

Now  here  were  "workers  in  the  vineyard,"  that  I 
could  admire;  strong,  active,  normal,  kind,  with  no  air 
of  feeling  themselves  set  aside,  but  filled  with  genuine 
humanity,  which  took  the  form  of  service  to  others,  but 
took  it  cheerfully,  matter-of-factly  and  helpfully.  Each 
with  a  history  I  was  longing  to  know,  but  with  no  senti- 
mental whining  over  broken  hearts  or  endeavor  to  ease 
them  by  an  easy  philanthropy.  Good  red  blood  flowed  in 
their  veins  and  I  felt  certain  that  they  were  still  trying 
to  down  the  old  Adam. 

Oh,  I  was  glad  to  find  these  new  friends  and  to  feel 
that  they  had  made  me  one  of  them,  and  I  fairly  hugged 
myself  in  my  joy. 

The  coming  Thursday  will  be  Christmas  and  Miss  Far- 
rish  has  invited  me  to  come  to  the  settlement  festivities 
and  enjoy  and  help. 

DEC.  28TH,— 

A  glorious  week.  Weather  clear,  cold,  and  snappy. 
On  Thursday  I  dressed  myself  in  my  best,  took  a  big 
apron  along  to  protect  my  gorgeousness,  carefully  cov- 
ered up  Martha 's  red  eye  with  some  ashes  so  I  might  find 
some  warmth  on  my  return,  and,  leaving  his  Majesty 
greatly  offended  on  the  landing  with  his  cushion  and 
some  lunch,  started  at  eleven-thirty  for  the  settlement 
house. 

Early  as  I  thought  I  was,  I  found  a  long  line  of  chil- 
dren ahead  of  me  waiting  for  the  doors  to  be  opened  at 
one ! — an  hour  and  a  half  off ! 

I  scurried  around  to  the  side  door  on  the  Alley  that 
Nora  had  told  me  of,  and  gaining  admittance  was  shown 
up  to  the  big  room  where  long  tables  had  been  set. 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

Here  I  found  the  doctor  on  a  pair  of  steps,  tacking  up 
some  perverse  greenery,  and  Miss  Farrish,  with  her 
mouth  full  of  tacks,  standing  on  a  kitchen  chair  valiantly 
hammering  (with  the  heel  of  her  slipper)  the  support  for 
a  banner  of  evergreens,  with  ' '  Merry  Christmas ' '  marked 
in  letters  of  red  berries. 

Another  woman,  who  was  crawling  out  from  under  the 
table  when  I  appeared  on  the  scene,  introduced  herself 
as  Anna  Dean  and  explained  her  humble  attitude  by  the 
information  that  the  trestles  were  shaky  that  the  table 
boards  were  spread  on,  and  she  feared  impatient  small 
feet  might  bring  them  down,  if  not  further  strengthened. 

Presently  I  was  as  busy  as  the  others  and  finally  at 
twenty  minutes  to  one,  the  doctor,  looking  out  of  the 
window,  said,— 

''I  fancy  we  had  best  let  them  in,  poor  mites!  Did 
you  ever  see  so  many  little  blue  noses  and  purple  little 
fists,  and  what  a  mob !" 

''Mob!  I  should  think  so"  wailed  Miss  Farrish — "why 
there  must  be  two  hundred  and  we  have  only  enough  for 
a  hundred.  Oh,  I  just  can't  tell  them.  You  go,  Doctor, 
they  will  be  so  disappointed." 

The  doctor  looked  as  though  he  did  not  relish  the  job, 
but  presently  we  heard  the  sound  of  an  army  of  small 
feet  and  the  big  doors  were  thrown  open.  Such  eager, 
small,  pinched  faces  there  were !  An  evident  effort  had 
been  made  to  tidy  up  and  adorn  and  the  results  were 
strange  and  wonderful  to  view.  I  did  not  know  for  a 
minute  whether  I  was  going  to  laugh  or  cry.  Then  Martha 
Farrish  in  her  kind  voice  and  clever  way  welcomed  them 
and  marshaled  them  into  seats,  where  they  were  first 
given  a  bowl  each  of  hot  soup,  then  turkey  and  dressing, 
baked  sweet  potatoes  and  puddings.  The  plates  were 
cleared  with  such  dispatch  that  I  felt  like  rubbing  my 
eyes.  It  was  as  though  marvelous  feats  of  legerdemain 
were  being  performed  and  I  thought,— "Oh,  shades  of 
Horace  Fletcher!  what  will  happen  to  these  children, 

55 


CHUMS 

will  they  spontaneously  combust,  or  have  acute  indiges- 
tion, or  what ! ' '  But  nothing  happened  and  after  every 
one  had  been  helped  at  least  three  times  a  diversion  was 
created  by  the  opening  of  the  doors  into  the  next  room, 
with  an  invitation  to  enter  which  created  a  stampede, 
for  in  full  view  was  a  Christmas  tree,  a  huge  tree  aglow 
with  candles,  sparkling  with  gay  tinseled  trimmings, 
with  a  waxen,  chubby  cherub  atop,  whose  outspread 
wings  softly  swept  the  tiptop  branches.  Under  the  tree 
was  a  long  sleigh  piled  with  packages,  and  a  rotund, 
bearded  and  jolly  Santa  Glaus  stood  leaning  against  it. 

It  was  a  study  to  watch  the  children.  The  varying  ex- 
pressions of  hope,  fear,  joy  that  the  pinched  small  faces 
showed,  as  dollies  and  tops,  warm  hoods,  mittens,  socks, 
were  distributed.  There  were  long  net  stockings  bound  in 
crimson  tape  and  filled  with  candy,  nuts,  oranges,  and  a 
long  pink  and  white  peppermint  cane,  tied  with  a  great 
bunch  of  tissue  paper  ribbon. 

After  the  last  presents  had  been  distributed,  the  last 
little  fist  filled,  Santa  Glaus  gave  them  a  talk,  telling  of 
the  child  born  so  long  ago,  in  whose  name  this  and  other 
such  feasts  were  given.  Told  in  Italian,  then  in  German 
and  finally  in  English,  for  these  children  were  a  polyglot 
lot  and  gathered  from  the  slums  of  the  various  national- 
ities. 

Then  Santa  Glaus  disappeared,  to  return  a  few  mo- 
ments later  as  the  friend  of  most  of  them,  their  own 
doctor. 

There  were  games  and  songs  and  dancing,  for  these 
children  of  the  slums  dance  from  babyhood,  and  it  was 
a  pretty  and  pathetic  sight  to  see  these  little  ones  hold- 
ing tightly  to  their  presents  and  dancing  lightly  to  the 
music  of  the  piano,  played  by  Miss  Dean. 

At  six  o'clock  they  were  each  given  a  hot,  well  sweet- 
ened glass  of  weak  coffee  and  a  currant  bun,  and  sent 
home,  and  we  sank  into  chairs,  tired  to  our  very  mar- 
rows, but  I,  for  one,  had  enjoyed  every  minute  of  it.  It 

56 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  had  seen  a  hundred 
waifs  and  strays  gathered  together  at  one  time  and  I  men- 
tally decided  that  it  would  not  be  my  last.  What !  miss 
the  joy  of  seeing  these  little  wan  faces  lighten  up  and 
flush !  The  sight  of  that  amazed  joy  as  the  presents  were 
put  into  the  grimy  little  paws !  Well,  no. 

Miss  Farrish  has  promised  to  take  me  with  her  some 
day  when  she  makes  her  "comfort"  visits,  as  she  calls 
them,  and  I  am  most  curious  to  see  someone  whom  she 
and  the  doctor  call  the  "Duchess"  and  who  lives  in  a 
house  in  Cat  Alley.  They  both  were  constantly  referring 
to  her  in  their  chat  of  the  other  afternoon  in  my  den. 
And  there's  another  person  whom  they  call  "Muriel 
Anastasia,"  who  seems  to  be  very  much  of  a  character 
and  when  I  wanted  to  know  more,  they  both  laughed  and 
said, — 

"Wait  and  see." 

When  I  returned  on  Christmas  night  with  Nora  she 
begged  me  to  go  up  to  her  den  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  a 
snack,  for  we  had  been  so  busy  at  the  mission  house  we 
had  not  eaten  any  dinner.  As  it  was  eight  and  I  sud- 
denly felt  famished  I  went  up,  and  there  was  the  duck- 
iest  little  spread,  all  ready.  Nora  had  arranged  with  the 
Torrelli's,  who  were  fairly  bursting  to  be  of  use  to  me, 
to  have  everything  cooked  and  ready  by  eight. 

There  was  turkey  breast  and  mushrooms  on  a  bed  of 
saffron  colored  macaroni  and  minced  chestnuts,  a  Nea- 
politan dish  I  adore,  a  salad,  and  two  fat  baked  sweet 
potatoes ;  and  for  dessert  we  had  the  famous  nut  pudding 
with  a  sprig  of  holly  stuck  in  it,  and  a  dish  of  fruit. 

Nora  said  that  she  had  not  been  able  to  make  them 
take  any  money  for  the  things  or  their  trouble,  for  see- 
ing that  they  would  be  hurt  if  she  insisted,  she  had  let 
them  have  their  way.  So  we  ate  and  talked  and  had  a 
most  jolly  time,  and  when,  at  ten,  I  got  back  to  my  own 
quarters,  I  felt  that  I  had  had  the  most  interesting  and 
altogether  delightful  Christmas  in  years. 

57 


CHUMS 

The  plates  are  going  beautifully  for  they  are  on  Jap- 
anese parchment,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to  remember  that 
they  are  "trade  plates."  My  inclination  is  to  put  too 
fine  and  too  much  work  on  them.  Some  day  I  shall  hope 
for  the  sort  of  work  I  love  best,  but  of  course  it  will 
have  to  be  for  some  lucky  individual,  who  is  "extra  il- 
lustrating" some  pet  book  or  books  and  is  able  and  will- 
ing to  pay  the  price. 

JAN.  4, — 

New  Year's  has  come  and  gone. 

There  was  a  wedding  in  the  next  house  and  I  was  in- 
vited and  went,  and  such  fun  as  it  was !  Nora  played  for 
the  dancing  and  I  footed  it  with  the  rest  and  danced  un- 
til I  was  a  rag.  The  supper  was  a  wonder!  and  I  got 
away  only  at  two-thirty,  having  danced  my  slippers  to 
tatters,  drunk  quarts  of  red  wine,  eaten  of  many  strange 
dishes  and  had  more  real  fun  and  enjoyment  than  I  ever 
had  at  other  and  more  correct  functions  in  my  life  at 
home. 

The  next  morning  I  felt  feverish  from  the  effects  of  my 
indiscretion  in  eating  and  drinking  the  night  before  and 
told  his  Majesty  he  was  a  nuisance,  when  I  had  to  open 
the  door  for  him  twice,  and  did  not  blacken  Martha; 
and  both  he  and  Martha  sulked.  Yes,  decidedly  the  wind 
was  east,  and  I  felt  I  would  better  go  out  and  walk  my- 
self into  a  decent  mood,  which  I  did,  coming  home  very 
tired  and  penitent  to  my  good  friends,  who  instantly 
responded  to  my  changed  mood. 

On  Wednesday,  as  I  was  taking  my  constitutional,  I 
ran  across  Mr.  W.  and  I  suppose  my  amazement  must 
have  been  very  apparent,  for  he  somewhat  incoherently 
explained  that  business  had  called  him  into  the  neigh- 
borhood. We  talked  for  a  moment,  then  I  excused  my- 
self, saying  that  I  had  only  done  twenty  minutes  of  my 
hour's  exercise  and  must  not  linger  or  keep  him.  Now, 

58 


rAN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

I  wonder  what  business  could  bring  him  away  down 
here  ?  Funny !  Decidedly  funny !  He  does  not  exactly 
give  one  the  idea  of  a  man  who  would  find  this  sort  of 
thing  interesting,  yet  one  can  never  tell.  I  do  not  ap- 
appear  the  kind  of  woman  who  would,  yet  I  have  found 
and  am  still  finding,  pictures  at  every  turn. 

JAN.  14,— 

It  seems  much  more  than  a  week  since  I  last  wrote,  for 
all  sorts  of  interesting  things  have  happened. 

First  on  the  list  was  an  afternoon  spent  with  Miss 
Farrish  on  one  of  her  "comfort"  visits,  and  I  returned 
feeling  that  personally  I  was  a  most  fortunate  individual, 
for  what  are  a  few  lost  illusions  or  a  broken  heart  (which, 
parenthetically,  mine  I  find,  is  not — only  cracked,  and 
cemented  so  neatly  with  new  interests  that  it  seems  as 
strong  as  ever).  Of  what  moment  are  these  whilst 
there's  perfect  health,  work  that  is  to  my  liking  and 
that  gives  me  a  living,  and  the  great,  busy,  interesting 
world  to  watch  and  be  amused  at. 

Our  first  visit  was  to  a  tenement,  where  in  the  course 
of  a  half -hour,  I  saw  more  downright  misery  of  the  sor- 
did, awful  kind  than  I  thought  could  exist  in  a  whole 
city,  heroism  of  no  mean  order,  and  such  patience  under 
fortune 's  heaviest  blows  that  I  felt  too  sad  even  for  tears ; 
but  amidst  the  horrors  there  were  several  bits  of  real 
brightness:  one,  and  the  brightest,  our  visit  to  the 
"Duchess"  a  tiny,  charming  old  woman  with  the  man- 
ners of  a  "grande  dame"  of  the  old  school.  Her  room 
at  the  tip  top  of  the  house  was  the  cleanest  and  dainti- 
est place!  I  fairly  gasped  when  I  saw  it  and  her,  and 
she  gave  us  tea  and  made  us  welcome.  Oh,  I  would  love 
to  know  all  about  her,  for  there  is  something  great  to 
know,  I  feel  certain. 

The  big  doctor  came  in  whilst  we  were  there  and  Miss 
Farrish  and  he  and  the  Duchess  held  a  great  pow-wow 

59 


CHUMS 

over  ways  and  means.  I  never  saw  three  people  so  given 
over  to  anything  as  they  are  to  active  charity  work.  Oh, 
I'm  learning  a  lot  about  the  " submerged"  and  I  wonder 
how  the  rich  people  can  bear  to  be  rich,  when  there  is 
all  of  this  horror  at  their  very  doors. 

After  we  had  drunk  our  tea  and  bade  good-bye  to  the 
Duchess  we  went  across  the  Alley  to  another  house  and 
up  four  flights  of  rickety  stairs  to  call  upon  Muriel 
Anastasia. 

In  one  back  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall,  lives  Mrs. 
McGillings  who  goes  out  "charring"  by  the  day,  is  a 
widow  and  the  possessor  of  six  small  children,  of  whom 
Muriel  Anastasia  is  the  eldest,  aged  twelve;  the  others 
stair-step  at  intervals  of  a  year  or  two.  The  mother  was 
out  working,  but  was  expected  home  at  six.  In  the  mean- 
time M.  A.  did  the  honors. 

The  room  contained  a  large  bed,  with  a  truckle  bed 
underneath,  a  table,  two  chairs,  a  chest  of  drawers,  a 
small  stove,  a  few  cooking  utensils,  and  everything  as 
clean  as  soap  and  water  and  a  liberal  supply  of  elbow 
grease  could  make  it.  Even  the  children  shone  from  a 
recent  application  of  brown  soap,  and  M.  A.  herself  was 
tidiness  personified. 

At  first  I  could  not  make  out  just  what  it  was  that 
struck  me  as  being  wrong  with  her.  When  she  was 
seated  she  looked  tall,  when  standing,  small.  Then  I  dis- 
covered that  the  body  was  very  long  and  the  legs  very, 
oh  very  short ;  a  peculiar  deformity  that  taken  with  her 
queer,  sharp,  little  old  face,  her  tightly  braided  hair, 
done  up  in  a  tiny  knot,  and  her  air  of  gentle  authority 
and  perfect  composure,  was  tremendously  funny. 

She  had  marshalled  the  five  children  into  a  corner,  so 
that  Miss  Farrish  and  I  could  enter  the  small  room,  had 
dusted  off  the  speckless  chairs  with  the  end  of  a  long 
checked  bib-apron  in  a  second,  and  stood  smiling  mildly 
upon  us. 

Miss  Farrish  told  her  that  I  was  a  friend  of  hers  and 

(50 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

M.  A.  acknowledged  the  introduction  with  a  quick  curt- 
sey and  "I'm  sure  you  are  most  welcome,  mem." 

Then  she  and  Miss  Farrish  talked  of  how  well  the 
McGillings'  fortunes  were  doing,  how  her  mother  was 
feeling  fine  and  had  an  office  building  to  do  now,  that 
paid  her  a  dollar  a  day,  and  how  much  more  easy  than 
house-to-house  "charring"  it  was,  besides  being  "regu- 
lar pay."  How  Jamie  commenced  on  Monday  next  to 
run  errands  at  a  big  wholesale  place  at  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  week,  and  here  she  drew  Jamie  from  the  bunch  in 
the  corner,  very  red  and  perspiring  freely  in  his  bash- 
fulness,  and  ordered  him  to  make  his  bow  and  thank 
Miss  Farrish  for  the  fine  new  mittens  and  muffler.  He 
obeyed  by  a  duck  of  the  head  and  a  muttered  something. 

Then  Alantha  May,  aged  eight,  was  brought  forth  to 
give  thanks  for  a  little  work-box  and  to  show  her  last  bit 
of  needle-work,  which,  by  the  way,  was  very  remarkable 
work  for  a  child.  I  exclaimed  at  it  and  Miss  Farrish  said 
that  Alantha  May  was  a  pupil  of  the  mission  house  and, 
if  she  kept  on  as  she  had  begun,  would  be  a  first  class 
sempstress;  upon  which  the  little  girl  seemed  as  much 
pleased  as  though  the  gates  into  paradise  had  been 
opened  to  her. 

Tommie,  aged  six,  was  still  too  young  to  feel  shy  and 
obediently  made  his  little  bow  and  gave  his  thanks  for 
the  new  cap  and  mittens  and  volunteered  the  information 
that  "  Jacky  Dill"  next  door  had  got  a  ball  and  bat  and 
he  wished  Santa  Claus  had  given  him  one,  at  which  I 
made  a  mental  note  that  "ball  and  bat"  one  shade  better 
than  Jacky 's  he  should  have. 

Two  little  girls  of  four  and  two,  dear  chubby  things, 
then  made  their  little  bows  and  as  they  both  had  dollies 
tightly  hugged  to  them  and  were  evidently  quite  content 
with  them,  Tommie  stood  forth  as  the  only  malcontent  in 
the  lot,  and  was  suffering  agonies  of  repentance  over  his 
outbreak  under  the  sternly  reproachful  gaze  of  Muriel 
Anastasia. 

61 


CHUMS 

She,  herself,  had  been  sent  a  ten-yard  piece  of  brown 
and  white  gingham,  a  crimson  worsted  fascinator,  which 
she  evidently  looked  upon  with  awe,  and  a  good  sized 
work-box,  well  fitted  up,  and  she  beamed  with  true  house- 
wifely pride  as  she  showed  us  the  contents. 

When  we  left  I  told  her  that  I  had  had  a  very  nice 
visit  and  should  hope  to  come  again  if  she  would  invite 
me,  which  she  did  very  prettily. 

"We  left  half-a-dozen  oranges  and  a  package  of  tea, 
coffee  and  four  cans  of  condensed  milk  for  the  mother. 

Then  I  brought  Miss  Farrish  home  with  me  for  a  stu- 
dio supper,  at  which  Nora  joined  us,  and  I  heard  all 
about  the  McGrillings.  The  father  and  mother  had  come 
over  to  New  York  from  London,  four  years  before,  hop- 
ing to  better  their  condition,  and  things  had  gone  well 
for  two  years  or  more,  until  after  the  birth  of  the  last 
baby.  Then  one  day  the  father  was  badly  hurt  at  the 
docks  where  he  was  at  work  loading  a  vessel,  and  died  in 
the  hospital  a  few  weeks  after. 

They  had  only  a  bit  of  money  left  after  his  funeral 
and  the  decent  home  of  three  rooms  had  to  be  given  up 
and  cheap  quarters  found.  The  mother  had  got  "char- 
ring" to  do  and  Muriel  Anastasia  had  looked  after  the 
family. 

Miss  Farrish  described  the  mother  as  a  small,  ener- 
getic woman,  who  as  a  girl  at  home  in  England  had  be- 
longed to  the  house-servant  class  and  who  had,  during 
her  youth,  been  much  given  to  the  surreptitious  reading 
of  penny  romances,  which  upon  her  marriage  and  subse- 
quent child-bearing  had  borne  fruit  in  the  selection  of 
names  for  her  girl  children.  Muriel  Anastasia,  Alantha 
May,  Edwina  Maud  and  Verona  Mabel ! 

"Good  gracious!  do  all  that  lot  of  people  live  on  the 
mother 's  earnings  ? "  I  asked. 

Miss  Farrish  smiled.  "Indeed  they  do  and  you  see 
what  wonders  Muriel  Anastasia  works  in  the  way  of 
comfort  and  cleanliness  with  it.  She  is  as  careful  and 

62 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

thrifty  as  though  she  were  forty  and  could  give  many  a 
silly  and  improvident  woman  useful  hints  of  the  marvels 
to  be  done  with  a  shin  bone  and  greens  or  ten  cents' 
worth  of  beef  and  mutton  scraps. 

One  day  I  happened  in  at  their  dinner  time  and 
found  them  seated  in  a  row  on  the  floor,  with  a  newspa- 
per in  front  of  them  upon  which  was  a  large  yellow  bowl 
of  pease  porridge,  which  had  a  piece  of  fat  bacon  boiled 
in  it,  and  each  child  had  a  thick  piece  of  bread  and  was 
taking  alternate  bites  of  bread  and  spoonfuls  of  porridge. 
When  the  last  scrap  was  eaten  the  bacon  was  cut  in  six 
pieces  and  each  had  one  as  a  bit  of  dessert,  with  instruc- 
tions to  'chew  it  fine,  then  it  seems  more,'  as  a  finishing 
admonition."  Of  course  such  sheer  luxury  as  tea  and 
coffee  and  condensed  milk  was  never  to  be  dreamed  of 
except  as  a  great  concession  from  fate  in  the  persons  of 
the  settlement  workers.  We  laughed  a  bit  chokiry,  that 
is  Nora  and  I  did ;  Miss  Farrish  sees  so  much  of  the  hard 
side  of  life  that  she  says  all  of  her  tears  have  been  shed 
and  now  she  works,  instead.  I  have  decided  that  I  shall 
dry  mine  with  the  same  sort  of  handkerchief. 

About  the  Duchess  Miss  Farrish  was  not  talkative, 
only  saying  that  she  was  the  most  remarkable  woman  she 
knew  and  the  most  helpful.  I  did  not  like  to  ask  further, 
but  I  do  so  want  to  know  about  her,  a  woman  with  the 
distinction  and  manners  of  a  feminine  Lord  Chester- 
field, and  a  knowledge  of  four  languages,  besides  Eng- 
lish: books  whose  titles  read,  Spencer's  Data  of  Ethics; 
Schopenhauer;  Emerson;  Balzac's  Seraphita;  Hegel's 
" ";  a  Latin  Horace,  and  others  equally  extraordi- 
nary to  find  in  the  room  of  a  woman  living  in  the  worst 
slums  of  the  neighborhood.  The  thing  was  too  unbeliev- 
able. 

When  I  took  back  the  plates  this  week,  Mr.  W.  said, — 

"Mrs.  Dimples,  (of  course  he  didn't  really  call  me 
that)  your  work  is  far  too  good  for  this  sort  of  thing, 
why  do  you  not  do  'extra  illustrating'?" 

I  laughed  and  answered, — 

63 


CHUMS 

"Because  this  pays  a  regular  sum  and  I  cannot  af- 
ford to  sit  idle  waiting  for  rich  collectors  and  people  with 
the  'extra  illustrating'  and  Grangerite  fad  to  discover 
my  talent.  Oh,  I  hope  some  day  to  do  that, ' '  I  added. 

He  said  nothing  further  and  went  back  to  his  office 
and  then  I  talked  awhile  with  Mr.  M.,  whom  I  like 
greatly. 

As  I  entered  the  elevator  Mr.  W.  came  out  of  his  of- 
fice and  rode  down  with  me,  walking  the  few  blocks  to 
Bassano's,  for  which  place  I  was  bound  to  look  over  some 
of  the  books  I  had  seen  reviewed,  where  he  said  good-bye. 

He  is  a  really  well  informed  man  and  now  that  T  know 
that  the  brusqueness  is  only  manner,  I  can  talk  to  him 
without  any  feeling  of  nervousness,  especially  as  all  of 
the  advances  have  been  from  his  side.  I  do  rather  enjoy 
having  a  mental  sparring  match  with  a  good  male  in- 
telligence, and  his  is  decidedly  that.  I  am  surprised  to 
find  that  such  knowledge  and  taste  is  in  conjunction  with 
a  very  keen  commercialism.  As  a  rule  they  do  not  go 
together. 

JAN.  22,- 

Have  been  bullying  Nora  about  the  outlandish  way  she 
lives.  The  cracker  and  tea  and  jam  diet  is  enough  to 
ruin  a  strong  constitution  and  hers  is  anything  but  that. 
I  find  that  she  is  absolutely  ignorant  of  the  simplest 
culinary  lore,  and  most  wofully  so  of  how  to  get  the 
maximum  nourishment  at  the  minimum  cost.  Likewise 
does  not  like  to  "bother  over  these  things."  I  have 
made  her  out  a  small  dietary,  which  she  has  promised  to 
struggle  with  and  I  shall  watch  to  see  if  she  does.  She 
looks  altogether  too  bloodless  and  poorly  nourished.  I 
evidently  frightened  her  by  prophesying  a  breakdown 
if  she  does  not  change,  and  she  plainly  has  urgent  need 
for  the  money  she  earns  so  she  may  do  better  now  for 
herself.  The  more  I  know  her  the  more  I  like  her.  She 
has  simply  lovely  traits  of  mind  and  heart. 

64 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS     . 

The  Torrelli's  and  my  landlady  seem  bent  upon  look- 
ing upon  me  as  the  savior  of  their  baby,  which  waxes 
fat  and  strong  visibly,  and  I  find,  often,  the  funny  little 
love  offerings  hanging  on  my  doorknob.  The  last  lot 
consisted  of  a  wicker  bottle  of  Chianti,  which  in  a  weak 
moment  I  mentioned  having  a  fondness  for;  four  little, 
smelly  but  delicious  cheeses,  a  new  (to  me)  kind  of 
sausage,  resembling  in  shape  a  fat  mustard  plaster,  and 
a  small  pot  of  goose  liver. 

I  remonstrate  in  vain.  They  shrug  their  fat  shoul- 
ders up  to  their  be-ringed  ears  and  say,— 

' '  Oh,  'tis  nothing,  nothing !  and  our  blessed  baby  is  so 
well." 

His  Majesty,  likewise,  has  taken  to  bringing  me  pres- 
ents. The  first  was  a  pretty,  dead  canary  and  the  next 
a  very  fat  and  long  tailed  rat,  both  of  which  he  laid  at 
my  feet  and  was  so  palpably  proud  of  that  I  had  not  the 
heart  to  punish  him.  The  birdie  I  cremated  and  the  rat 
I  consigned  to  the  ash  barrel. 

Nora  and  I  went  on  a  copper  hunting  expedition  and 
found  a  beautiful  samovar  of  hand-beaten  "fire  copper" 
with  brass  trimmings,  a  love  of  a  jug  with  rim,  handle 
and  bottom  of  brass,  and  a  tall  brass  candlestick.  Nora 
got  only  a  fat  copper  pot  with  an  inlay  of  brass  beaten 
into  its  rim,  but  oh!  such  a  beauty.  If  I  had  not  felt 
such  a  sincere  affection  for  her  I  could  have  found  it  in 
my  heart  to  envy  her. 

This  district  is  rich  in  these  things.  So  many  Poles 
and  Russians  come  over  here  with  their  household  gods 
and  either  through  stress  of  circumstances  or  a  quickly 
developed  taste  for  the  things  of  the  new  world,  sell  or 
pawn  their  old  world  treasurers.  For  my  three  finds  I 
paid  the  sum  of  four  dollars.  Nora  paid  two  for  her 
bowl. 

I  likewise  found,  in  the  same  bookstall  where  I  bought 
the  other  books,  a  vellum  covered  Epictetus  and  a  funny 
old  Swiss  Family  Robinson  (the  latter  with  the  wierdest 

65 


CHUMS 

wood  cuts  and  a  yellow  board  cover)  for  which  I  paid, 
respectively,  sixty  and  twenty  cents. 

There  is  an  old  shop  on  -  -  St.,  whose  windows  are 
given  over  to  dust,  dead  flies,  spider  webs  and  incident- 
ally some  very  good  Dresden  and  a  small  collection  of 
miniatures  on  ivory,  which  I  shall  some  day  investigate. 

Am  become  a  recognized  member  of  the  working  fra- 
ternity now  at  S &  Sons,  and  the  elevator  boy  and 

the  office  boy  are  both  my  intimate  friends. 

The  elevator  boy,  who  by  the  way  is  a  man  of  fifty, 
had  given  his  fingers  a  fearful  crushing  the  other  day 
and  was  running  the  elevator  with  one  hand.  When  I 
enquired  the  trouble  he  showed  me  the  poor  hand  and  it 
made  me  quite  sick  for  a  minute.  I  remembered  an  old 
time  remedy  of  "Debbie's,"  which  we  used  to  apply  to 
bruises  and  cuts  and  which  was  always  most  efficacious, 
so  I  bought  the  ingredients  on  my  way  home  and  pre- 
pared them  as  I  had  seen  Debbie  do  so  many  times,  and 
ran  around  with  it  late  that  afternoon.  The  poor  chap 
was  so  grateful  and  I  think  from  something  he  said  not 
very  well  used  to  having  anyone  take  any  thought  for 
him.  Goodness!  what  a  lot  of  "alone  folk"  there  are  in 
the  world. 

The  office  boy,  who  is  a  red  faced,  freckle  faced  Irish 
boy,  as  full  of  Satan  as  they  make  'em,  had  a  simply 
fierce  cough  that  haunted  me,  until  I  had  got  him  to  take 
something  for  it  that  I  brought  him,  and  promise  to  wear 
a  piece  of  flannel  over  his  chest,  and  when,  the  following 
day,  his  cold  was  much  better,  probably  owing  as  much 
to  his  exuberant  vitality  and  the  fact  of  the  cold's  having 
run  its  course,  as  to  my  small  dosing,  he  immediately  put 
the  fact  to  my  credit  and  now  greets  me  with  a  "Good 
day,  Mrs.  Doctor."  He  is  an  irrepressible  and  reminds 
me  of  "Tom  Scott."  Now  that  he  has  taken  me  into 
his  heart,  he  makes  me  one  of  the  office  family  and  gen- 
erally walks  on  his  hands  to  the  door  of  the  main  office. 

I  told  him  that  he  reminded  me  of  a  boy  in  one  of  my 

66 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

favorite  stories  and  nothing  would  do  but  he  must  read 
the  story,  so  I  bought  a  paper  covered  Old  Curiosity 
Shop  and  put  it  into  a  denim  cover  and  now  he  spends 
his  time  poring  over  it  to  the  sad  neglect  of  his  other 
duties,  I  fear;  but  he  told  me,  as  he  was  going  out  the 
other  day,  that  it  was  "a  bully  story  and  he'd  like  to 
punch  the  bloomin'  head  of  that  there  Quilp"  so  the 
leaven  is  working,  for  of  course  he  will  never  stop  with 
that  one  story.  I  think  I  shall  be  asked  to  pilot  his  in- 
tellectual bark  and  I  shall  propose  David  Copperfield 
next. 

FEB.  7,— 

I've  neglected  my  diary  sadly  these  past  two  weeks 
and  now  I  hardly  know  where  to  commence.  As  I  was 
leaving  the  office  about  two  weeks  ago,  Mr.  W.  followed 
me  and  said : 

' '  I  think,  Mrs.  Dimples,  if  you  care  to  take  it,  I  have  a 
commission  for  you.  It  is  to  color  some  fifty  plates  in 
your  best  manner  for  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  who  has 
been  extra  illustrating  a  Complete  Angler.  Here  is  his 
address  and  you  can  call  on  him  and  make  the  necessary 
arrangements.  He  would,  of  course,  come  to  you,  but  he 
is  an  invalid  and  unable  to  get  out  much. ' ' 

I  was  tickled  and  my  face  evidently  showed  it,  for  Mr. 
W.  said  with  one  of  his  funny,  twisty  smiles,  that  make 
his  ugly  face  so  kind, — 

''That  is  right,  keep  right  on  staying  young  in  your 
emotions,  the  world's  too  filled  with  sad  grown  ups"; 
and  bowing,  he  went  back  to  the  office. 

I  fairly  flew  home  where  I  wrote  a  note  to  the  nice  in- 
valid man  who  wants  his  plates  colored,  asking  if  I  might 
call  on  Wednesday,  with  some  of  my  work  for  his  in- 
spection, etc.,  etc.,  then  ran  out  and  posted  it  and  back 
to  my  den.  Rapped  on  Nora's  window  and  told  her  the 
joyful  tidings,  then  settled  down  to  get  together  the  best 

67 


CHUMS 

plates  I  have  with  me  to  show  Mr.  Armstead;  I  suppose 
he 's  a  nice  old  gentleman  with  a  hobby,  which  for  lack  of 
ability  to  ride  another  sort  of  horse  he  runs  to  death. 
Am  curious  to  see  what  selection  he  has  made  of  plates 
for  the  Angler — that  is  a  book  I  have  always  promised 
myself  to  extra  illustrate. 

FEB.  20,— 

Went  up  to  No. Madison  Avenue  on  Wednesday 

and  found  not  a  "nice  old  gentleman"  but  a  youngster 
of  about  twenty-two  or  three  crippled  so  badly  that  he 
lies  propped  up  on  a  sort  of  lounge  bed,  but  as  cheerful 
as  a  cricket,  and  before  I  knew  it  we  were  talking  away 
as  though  we  had  been  acquainted  forever. 

The  plates  I  am  to  color  are  some  of  them,  in  fact  most 
of  them,  ones  I  would  have  selected  myself  and  I  shall 
simply  "joy"  in  the  work. 

He  studied  the  plates  I  had  brought  to  show  him, 
carefully,  and  then  said,— 

* '  These  are  gems,  just  little  gems ! ' '  and  putting  aside 
several,  he  added, — "These  are  done  in  exactly  the  way 
I  would  like  you  to  do  mine. ' ' 

Then  we  settled  as  to  price,  and  I  told  him  I  must 
have  at  least  four  months  for  the  work,  as  I  could  not 
neglect  my  work  for  S &  Sons,  my  means  of  obtain- 
ing regular  supply  of  bread  and  butter. 

He  showed  me  many  of  his  books  and  print  treasures, 
and  before  we  knew  it  the  time  had  flown  and  it  was  four 
o'clock.  His  man  brought  in  the  tea  and  Mr.  Armstead 
begged  me  to  stay  and  drink  it  with  him,  and  he  is  such 
a  dear  lad  and  so  plucky  in  spite  of  his  trouble  that  he 
had  won  my  heart,  so  I  stayed  and  we  ate  muffins  and 
drank  tea  as  cosily  as  possible  and  I  amused  him  with 
accounts  of  the  Torrelli's  and  their  "love  gifts"  and  told 
him  of  the  settlement  work  and  of  Muriel  Anastasia :  so 
that  finally,  when  I  said  that  I  must  go,  having  stayed 

68 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

just  three  hours,  he  told  me  I  had  done  him  heaps  of 
good  and  begged  me  to  come  again  soon. 

When  I  got  to  the  door  I  found  that  he  had  ordered 
his  brougham  to  take  me  home,  so  the  neighborhood  was 
electrified  by  the  arrival  of  my  humble  self  in  all  of  the 
magnificence  of  a  brougham,  servants  in  livery,  and  a 
most  beautiful  pair  of  horses  whose  silver  gilt  adorn- 
ments left  the  entire  population  in  open-eyed  and 
open-mouthed  amaze. 

I  stopped  in  the  fruit  stand  to  tell  the  Torrelli's  my 
good  news  and  explain  the  carriage,  then  rushed  up  to 
Nora  and  told  her  all  about  everything,  after  which,  as 
it  was  late,  I  stayed  and  got  supper,  whilst  she  worked  on 
a  rush  order. 

Have  had  tea  again  with  the  Duchess,  to  whom  I  went 
with  some  instructions  and  money  from  Miss  Farrish. 
She  is  the  right  hand  of  the  mission  folk  and  it  is  through 
her  that  Miss  Farrish  gets  all  of  the  information  she 
needs  about  the  cases  worthy  and  needful  of  help  that 
the  workers  at  the  mission  can  give.  The  Duchess  gains 
in  charm  and  I  am  more  and  more  wondering  about  her. 

Took  a  ball  and  bat  to  the  disgraced  Tommy  and  had  a 
talk  with  Muriel  Anastasia  whom  I  found  sewing  pina- 
fores. As  before,  the  little  room  was  spotless  and  clean 
and  the  children  as  good  as  could  be.  I  could  not  but 
contrast  them  with  some  spoiled  darlings  I  know  of  and 
thought  the  contrast  was  all  to  their  credit. 

MARCH  18, — 

Have  again  neglected  my  weekly  scrawl  and  from  now 
on  I  go  back  to  the  Saturday  or  Sunday  summing  up. 
My  small  existence  has  taken  to  being  so  full  of  events, 
that  otherwise  I  shall  forget  to  keep  track  of  them,  and 
this  year,  that  started  so  alone  and  so  stripped  of  every- 
thing that  I  had  always  felt  sheer  necessities  before,  is 
getting  to  be  the  most  full  and  alive  one  I  have  ever  lived. 

69 


CHUMS 

"Tom  Scott"  the  second  is  now  deep  in  David  Cop- 
perfield,  and  when,  thinking  he  was  skipping  for  the 
story,  boy  fashion,  I  put  him  through  an  examination,  I 
found  the  little  rat  was  not  missing  a  shade!  Which  is 
rather  remarkable  and  I  can  only  account  for  it  by  the 
fact  that  his  thirteen  years  have  been  passed  with  those 
clever  green  eyes  very  wide  open  to  all  phases  of  life, 
and  that  his  Irish  quickness  is  sharpened  to  the  limit. 
Just  now  he  is  breathing  "death  and  last  judgment" 
against  Uriah  Heap. 

The  elevator  boy  has  also  taken  to  calling  me  "Doc- 
tor" and  when  I  strike  an  empty  cage,  which  he  sees  to 
it  that  I  do  occasionally,  he  unbosoms  to  me.  Poor  chap, 
he  has  an  invalid  widowed  sister  and  her  little  daughter, 
whom  he  supports.  I  am  going  to  see  them  some  day. 
He  tells  me  that  when  the  sister  has  a  good  spell  she  does 
fine  needle  work,  and  that  the  child,  who  is  ten,  takes 
care  of  the  two  rooms  and  cooks  the  meals,  "like  as  if 
she  was  grown  up." 

I  went  to  see  Miss  Farrish  on  Tuesday  and  found  that 
she  had  gone  to  her  cousin's  wedding,  the  pretty  Belle 
English  of  whom  I  have  heard  her  speak.  So  I  chatted 
awhile  with  some  of  the  other  workers  and  then  went 
for  a  prowl,  from  which  I  returned  the  richer  for  an  old 
book  containing  two  really  beautiful  vignettes  and  a  tail 
piece  by  Westall,  engraved  by  Finden,  which  I  shall  put 
aside  for  extra  illustrating. 

Finished  three  plates  for  Mr.  Armstead's  Angler, 
that  if  I  do  say  it  as  oughtn  't,  are  lovely !  and  four  that 
I  think  good.  It  is  a  queer  thing,  but  given  a  personal 
liking  for  the  subject  of  a  plate  I  can  do  wonders,  but  if 
I  strike  one  I  do  not  care  for  I  have  to  force  myself  to 
do  it.  Nora  comforts  me  by  saying  that  is  because  I  am 
a  "truly  artist." 

Nora,  by  the  way,  is  looking  wretchedly,  and  there  is 
something  troubling  her  for  I  have  found  her  several 
times  showing  distinctly  the  traces  of  tears,  and  those 

70 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

beautiful  eyes  are  mostly  now  so  troubled;  but  she  has 
not  said  a  word  about  what  is  troubling  her,  so  I  cannot 
comfort  her,  but  I  do  intend  to  see  that  she  is  with  me 
more  and  shall  manage  to  have  her  in  to  supper  often,  on 
the  plea  that  I  am  lonely. 

MARCH  25, — 

March  is  certainly  doing  its  best  to  go  out  in  a  proper 
lionlike  way.  I  have  never  seen  such  a  succession  of 
windy,  sleety,  bitter  days  and  the  sky  has  been  for  the 
last  ten  a  dull  unbroken  gray.  Have  to  light  my  lamp 
at  four,  and  when  the  spring  comes  it  will  get  a  welcome 
it  never  got  before  from  me. 

Mr.  Armstead  said  one  day  when  I  fairly  blew  in,  hat 
over  my  ears,  hair  tousled,  cheeks  aflame  and  generally 
the  worse  for  weather,  that  he  thought  me  the  most  for- 
tunate person  he  had  ever  known,  for  added  to  my 
health,  evidently  marvelous  to  him,  was  the  greatest  ca- 
pacity for  getting  the  best  out  of  everything;  which  I 
suppose  was  apropos  of  the  fact  that  I  had  greeted  him 
with  the  statement  that  it  was  a  "glorious,  blowy  old 
day."  We  have  become  the  greatest  of  friends.  I  find 
that  he  is  twenty-six  instead  of  twenty-two;  lives  all 
alone,  except  for  the  presence  of  an  old  aunt,  who  is  so 
quiet  and  unobtrusive  she  doesn't  count,  and  a  houseful 
of  old  servants,  who,  one  and  all,  are  devoted  to  him. 
Has  no  other  near  relatives  than  the  aunt  whom  he  calls 
Aunt  Pleasant;  is  very  evidently  a  rich  man  and  has  a 
wonderful  store  of  philosophy  and  submission.  Also,  as 
he  like  myself  believes  in  re-embodiment,  knows  that  the 
terrible  affliction  he  is  suffering  under  is  the  effect  of  a 
cause  in  the  time  gone.  He  tells  me  that  he  has  his  times 
of  rebellion  and  bitterness,  but  he  does  not  let  them  down 
him. 

There  is  a  great  rejoicing  in  the  Torrelli  family  be- 
cause of  the  advent  of  a  new  baby,  a  girl;  and  I  have 

71 


CHUMS 

been  asked  as  a  great  favor  to  allow  it  to  be  called  after 
me,  so  I  gave  them  what  I  think  the  prettiest  of  my  sev- 
eral names  and  shall  do  my  duty  later  on  with  a  chris- 
tening cup. 

Have  discovered  what  my  precious  little  Nora's  trou- 
ble is,  and  quite  by  accident.  I  rushed  up  one  day  to 
tell  her  something  too  intimate  to  be  told  from  the  win- 
dow, and  not  stopping  for  a  "come  in"  to  my  knock, 
opened  the  door.  Nora  was  sitting  at  her  table,  very 
white  and  still,  and  in  a  chair  by  her  was  the  most  lovely 
woman  I  have  ever  seen, — a  face  to  dream  of.  She  was 
loudly  and  vulgarly  dressed  and  on  her  softly  modeled 
cheeks  were  bright  spots  of  rouge.  Her  hair  was  of  the 
vivid  red  of  black  hair,  henna-stained,  and  her  whole  ap- 
pearance was  so  different  from  Nora's  gentle  refinement 
that  when  she  said: 

"This  is  my  sister  Claire,"  I  could  hardly  believe  my 
ears.  I,  of  course,  got  out  as  quickly  as  possible  and  later 
Nora  came  over  to  see  me  and  told  me  the  story. 

This  beauty  of  a  woman  is  her  half-sister.  Same  moth- 
er, Italian  father,  who  was  a  handsome,  worthless,  tal- 
ented man,  and  his  daughter  inherited  all  of  his  worst 
traits,  with  a  something  of  lowness  and  vulgarity  he  had 
never  shown.  Some  five  months  after  the  mother's 
death  he  had  given  up  his  worthless  life  in  a  drunken 
brawl.  Nora  had  assumed  the  responsibility  of  the  child, 
then  fourteen  and  already  showing  evidences  of  the  ex- 
traordinary beauty  and  badness  that  she  later  developed 
to  the  full,  and  in  spite  of  everything  that  Nora  could  do 
to  restrain  her,  she  broke  all  bounds  and  finally  ran  away 
with  an  Italian  opera  singer  when  she  was  eighteen. 
Since  then  she  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse,  until  the  last 
stage  of  disgrace  was  reached  when  she  and  her  lover 
were  arrested,  he  for  the  actual  theft  of  a  large  sum  in 
money  and  jewels,  she  as  his  accomplice.  Just  a  year 
ago  she  had  come  out  of  prison,  where  she  had  been  for 
three  years.  The  man  had  six  years  further  to  serve. 

72 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

By  her  first  lover,  the  Italian  singer,  she  had  had  a 
child,  which  Nora  had  supported ;  and  now  she  was  living 
the  old,  easy,  disreputable  life,  coming  to  Nora  for  money 
whenever  she  felt  the  need  of  it.  And  the  long  strain 
of  anxiety  and  horror,  of  shame  and  betrayed  affection 
had  been  what  had  made  my  poor  Nora  so  thin  and  wan 
looking. 

I  comforted  her  finally  and  went  at  length  into  my  be- 
lief in  the  necessity  for  each  soul's  having  to  work  out 
its  own  salvation,  and  we  talked  late,  for  I  ' '  felt ' '  to  tell 
her  of  my  own  personal  experiences  and  some  of  the  rea- 
sons that  had  made  me  break  away  from  an  environment 
on  the  surface  so  rich  a  one.  And  I  think  she  went  home 
feeling  more  cheerful,  just  for  having  unbosomed. 

"We  women  are  queer  creatures,  even  the  most  reserved 
of  us  feel  the  necessity  sometimes  of  expressing. 

Oh !  and  I  have  come  across  another  interesting  bit  of 
heart  history;  it  seems  that  our  "big,  splendid  doctor" 
almost  lost  his  heart  to  pretty  Belle  English,  and  she  al- 
most lost  hers  to  him.  But  he  would  not  give  up  his 
work,  which  I  believe  is  the  most  effectively  helpful  I 
have  ever  known,  and  she  would  not  or  could  not  give 
up  her  life,  and,  as  they  were  as  wide  asunder  as  the 
poles,  there  was  but  the  frail  plank  of  a  love  which,  on 
her  part,  could  not  have  been  very  deep,  it  seems  to  me, 
or  she  would  have  given  up  anything  to  bridge  the  chasm. 
So  nothing  but  heartaches  came  of  it. 

Anna  told  me  this  and  added  that  she  did  hope  now 
that  the  doctor  would  realize  that  mere  prettiness  was 
not  everything,  and  as  I  looked  surprised  she  said  in  a 
whisper, — 

' '  I  do  get  so  angry  at  men !  There 's  Martha  Farrish, 
worth  a  dozen  of  her  silly  little  cousin,  interested  in 
every  one  of  his  interests,  and  surely  they  would  seem 
fairly  ordained  for  life  partnership  and  he  goes  on  sub- 
limely unconscious  of  it  all. ' ' 

And  now  that  I  have  been  given  the  hint,  I  wonder  I 

73 


CHUMS 

have  never  seen  it  all  before.  Why,  Miss  Farrish's  face 
becomes  fairly  beautiful  as  she  talks  or  listens  to  him 
and  those  big,  clear  gray  eyes  of  hers  are  certainly  not 
indifferent,  but  I  doubt  if  he  has  ever  known  it  for  a 
second.  Once  again  for  the  thousandth  time  I  realize 
that  beauty  is  the  great  motive  power  old  Dame  Nature 
makes  use  of  for  the  attainment  of  her  ends— clever  old 
thing  that  she  is. 

APRIL  2,— 

Blue  sky  and  a  wee  bit  of  mildness  in  the  air.  I  am 
going  to  take  a  day  off  next  week  and  go  out  to  the  park 
and  interview  spring.  Am  curious  to  see  if  there  are 
any  signs  of  her  ladyship.  Of  course  down  here  there 
are  not  now,  beyond  the  fact  that  there  are  some  early 
primroses,  which  must  have  been  forced,  as  we  have  had 
fierce  weather  until  a  few  days  ago. 

I  walked  up  to  Union  Square  yesterday  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  could  see  evidences  of  buds  to  come  on  the 
trees,  and  the  sparrows  were  there  in  flocks.  If  this 
weather  continues,  in  a  month  the  city  will  be  lovely.  I 
once  heard  New  York  spoken  of  as  a  hideous  place  and 
I  was  indignant  and  disgusted  that  I  could  not  take  up 
the  cudgels  for  my  beloved  city. 

My  small  bank  account  is  ' '  doing  nicely,  thanks, ' '  and 
I  am  feeling  very  happy  and  content  with  my  work. 

Mr.  Armstead  is  pleased  with  the  plates  and  when 
these  are  finished  wants  me  to  do  some  others  of  rural 
England  for  the  Shelbourne  and  Dreamthorpe  he  is  extra 
illustrating,  so  I  can  see  my  way  to  a  month  in  the 
country,  say  in  August.  I  shall  make  Nora  go  along 
and  we  will  go  to  a  little  place  I  know  away  up  on  the 
Maine  coast,  where  we  can  have  both  sea  and  fields  and 
a  life  out-doors,  with  some  books,  our  oldest  clothe-s  and 
no  fear  of  meeting  fashionable  folk. 


74 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 
APRIL  15TH,— 

I  organized  a  picnic  for  Wednesday  last!  Miss  Far- 
rish,  who  loves  the  ' '  promise  time  of  the  year, ' '  the  busy 
doctor,  who  is  a  veritable  boy,  and  myself. 

We  rented  wheels  at  the  cyclery  near  the  park,  and 
with  our  lunches  strapped  to  our  handle-bars,  we  started. 

There  were  evidences  of  spring  everywhere  and  the 
air  was  exquisite.  We  investigated  every  cycle  path 
and  rode  out  Riverside  Drive  and  camped  for  lunch  in  a 
field  beyond  Claremont,  quite  near  the  ferry,  where  we 
ate  our  sandwiches  and  drank  our  beer  with  the  appe- 
tites of  savages;  then  wheeled  slowly  home,  stopping  at 
the  cafe  in  the  park  for  tea  about  four,  and  very  con- 
tentedly watched  the  smart  traps  and  their  smarter  oc- 
cupants as  they  passed.  All  of  us  had  been  the  possess- 
ors of  just  such  "smartness"  and  had  given  it  up,  as 
not  being  worth  while,  so  our  hearts  held  no  bitterness  of 
envy,  only  relief  at  the  freedom  and  a  realization  that 
we  had  chosen  the  better  part. 

As  we  were  going  out  of  the  park  the  doctor  took  off 
his  hat  to  a  fine  portly  old  man  who  was  passing  in  a 
coupe  and  who  barely  nodded  in  answer.  I  saw  Miss 
Farrish  glance  quickly  at  the  doctor,  then  away,  and  the 
doctor's  wonderful  flow  of  spirits  seemed  dampened  af- 
ter that ;  so  we  rather  silently  rode  down  in  the  car,  after 
giving  up  our  wheels.  But,  except  for  the  one  incident 
which  luckily  came  at  the  end  of  our  day,  we  had  a  jolly 
time,  and  if  I  can  get  these  two  busy  people  to  try  it 
once  more,  say  in  May,  we  shall  take  to  the  road  again. 

The  old  gentleman  was  the  doctor's  enormously  rich 
father,  who,  it  seems,  strongly  disapproves  of  his  son's 
choice  of  work  and  has  cut  him  off  with  the  proverbial 
shilling  in  consequence.  Poor  old  man,  what  a  lot  he  is 
missing  when  he  cuts  himself  off  from  that  fine,  strong 
soul.  Oh!  why  do  parents  so  often  play  the  petty  ty- 


75 


CHUMS 

rant?  Why  can  they  not  recognize  the  fact  that  every 
individual  must  express  himself  as  best  he  can  and  that 
parenthood  should  not  spell  tyranny,  as  it  so  generally 
does? 

Last  Saturday  I  sent  the  plates  to  the  office,  as  I  was 
going  to  have  Nora,  Miss  Farrish  and  the  Duchess  to  a 
studio  feed  on  Sunday  and  wanted  the  time  to  do  some 
cleaning  up  and  some  cooking.  The  boy  I  sent  returned 
with  a  note  from  Mr.  Warren,  saying  that  he  would  send 
the  new  lot  of  plates  in  the  afternoon. 

About  three  o'clock,  as  I  was  polishing  Martha,  with  a 
large  apron  on,  my  head  done  up  in  a  dust-cap,  and  a 
most  disreputable  pair  of  old  gloves  on  my  hands,  being 
a  sight  for  the  gods,  I  answered  a  knock  to  find  Mr.  War- 
ren at  the  door!  I  do  not  know  who  was  most  embar- 
rassed for  a  minute,  then  the  absurdity  of  it  struck  me 
and  I  laughed  and  asked  him  in. 

He  had  brought  the  plates  and  my  weekly  money,  "be- 
ing in  the  neighborhood" !— I'd  like  to  know  what  for! — 
and  I  took  off  my  gloves  and  did  the  honors. 

By  now  my  little  den  has  taken  on  an  expression  of 
cheerfulness  and  real  prettiness:  my  bits  of  copper  and 
brass  and  Dresden,  my  four  shelves  of  books,  the  walls 
decently  covered  with  some  of  my  best  sample  plates, 
which  I  have  put  in  passepartout.  The  geraniums  with 
their  clean  green  and  red  on  the  sills  make  it  a  cosy  and 
homey  place,  and  the  small  artistic  disorder  of  my  work- 
table  gives  the  needed  note.  Altogether  an  exemplifica- 
tion of  ' '  high  thinking  and  simple  living. ' '  Fortunately 
my  masterpiece  of  lamb  ragout  for  the  morrow's  dinner 
had  been  put  out  on  the  shelf,  and  the  air  in  the  room 
was  free  from  culinary  odors. 

Mr.  Warren  soon  lost  his  slight  air  of  shyness  and 
looked  over  my  small  possessions  with  interest.  It  ap- 
pears that  he  is  a  collector  of  old  china  and  minatures, 

so  I  told  him  of  the  shop  on St.,  which  he  did  not 

know  of ;  and  now  I  suppose  by  that  act  of  generosity  I 

76 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

have  lost  a  little  minature  "La  Princesse  Lamballe," 
which  I  have  coveted  and  which  I  intended  getting  next 
month,  if  I  could,  for  it 's  the  gem  of  the  lot  to  my  notion. 
That 's  the  worst  of  being  a  collector,  it  warps  all  of  one 's 
native  generosity  of  feeling.  I  feel  it  possible  to  hate  my 
dearest  friend,  if  said  friend  gets  one  of  my  coveted 
treasures. 

He  told  me  that  he  had  seen  the  plates  for  the  Angler 
at  Mr.  Armstead's  and  thought  them  the  best  work  of 
the  kind  he  had  seen.  And  then  we  talked  of  every- 
thing and  I  learned  a  lot  of  the  ' '  secrets  of  the  trade. ' ' 
Oh,  ye  gods !  what  a  lot  of  sheep  the  dear  public  is,  and 
how  it  does  love  to  be  bulldozed ! 

My  little  clock  struck  four  whilst  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  our  talk,  and  he  jumped  up  as  though  he  had  been 
electrified,  begged  pardon  for  the  length  of  his  stay  and 
said  he  had  enjoyed  his  chat  greatly. 

I  did  not  ask  him  to  remain  to  tea  as  I  had  some  things 
to  do,  so  we  shook  hands  and,  after  my  warning  to  look 
out  for  the  turn  in  the  stairs,  he  disappeared. 

Goodness!  I  am  getting  quite  a  number  of  acquaint- 
ances and  here  the  process  of  mutual  selection  holds  good, 
so  there  is  the  nice  feeling  of  being  wanted  and  liked  for 
myself.  Oh  yfes,  life  is  awfully  worth  while  living  and 
to  think  that  I  ever  had  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  of  it  amuses 
me  now;  "it  did  not  at  the  time." 

APRIL  30TH, — 

An  epidemic  of  typhoid  has  broken  out  in  our  ward, 
and  Miss  Farrish  and  the  Doctor  are  working  like  mad. 

I  went  up  to  see  the  Duchess  and  she  told  me  that  Mrs. 
McG.  had  been  taken  ill  and  sent  to  the  hospital,  where 
she  lies  at  death's  door.  So,  as  Jamie  is  the  only  one 
making  anything  and  that  only  two  dollars  a  week,  Mu- 
riel Anastasia  is  moaning  over  the  probability  of  having 
to  give  up  the  three  youngest  children  to  a  Home. 

77 


CHUMS 

I  remembered  how  interested  Mr.  Armstead  had  been 
in  my  accounts  of  the  family,  so  I  went  up  to  see  him  and 
told  him  of  the  trouble.  He  had  once  asked  me  to  let  him 
help  in  our  work  so  that  I  felt  free  to  tell  him,  and  he 
gave  me  a  hundred  dollars  which  will  keep  the  McG's 
for  four  months,  and  Muriel  Anastasia  will  be  able  to 
keep  those  precious  "kiddies"  of  hers  with  her. 

I  went  around  yesterday  to  give  her  the  hundred  dol- 
lars and  found  that  the  news  of  her  mother's  death  had 
just  reached  her.  Poor  little  soul,  it  was  very  pitiful  to 
see  how  unhappy  she  was.  We  have  decided  to  pay  for 
the  simple  funeral  of  the  mother,  so  she  can  have  the 
hundred  dollars  clear.  Her  one  gleam  of  comfort  came 
when  she  realized  that  she  could  put  off  the  evil  day  of 
parting  with  the  children.  Of  course  it  can  only  be  de- 
layed, for  even  with  the  miracles  she  can  work  with  that 
hundred,  they  won't  last  more  than  four  or  five  months 
at  the  most ;  and  as  the  children  are  all  too  small  to  earn 
money  yet,  it  will  be  impossible  to  keep  them  together. 

On  "Wednesday  it  was  so  beautiful  and  the  spring 
spirit  got  into  my  blood  so  hard  that  I  shut  up  shop  early 
and,  taking  an  open  car,  rode  up  to  the  end  of  the  line 
and  back,  and  on  my  return  stopped  in  at  the  settlement 
house  and  begged  an  invitation  to  supper. 

Miss  F.  looked  fagged  when  she  came  in  and  when  she 
told  me  what  she  had  seen  and  done  that  day,  I  did  not 
wonder.  My  admiration  for  her  is  so  g^reat.  Oh,  what  a 
splendid  woman  she  is !  And  later  as  the  doctor  walked 
home  with  me,  having  come  in  to  bring  some  medicines 
just  as  I  was  leaving,  I  could  not  refrain  from  express- 
ing my  admiration. 

"Yes,  she  is  one  in  a  million!  To  know  her  is  a  most 
liberal  education  in  heart  and  soul  lore,"  he  said,  almost 
reverently. 

The  Duchess  came  with  a  list  of  things  Miss  Farrish 
wanted  me  to  get  for  her  the  other  afternoon  and  I  made 
her  stay  and  have  supper  with  me.  Afterwards,  as  I  was 

78 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

showing  her  some  of  the  plates  I  am  doing  for  Mr.  Arm- 
stead,  she  recognized  one  that  I  had  put  in  a  passepar- 
tout, that  I  might  enjoy  it  whilst  I  was  at  work  on  others, 
and  she  looked  at  it  carefully. 

Then  she  told  me  that  when  she  was  in  England  once, 
she  came  across  a  little  package  of  his  plates  at  a  stall  in 
the  tuppeny  box,  which  some  vandal  had  torn  from  a 
book  or  books  and  that  they  proved  to  be  first  impressions 
and  valuable. 

Then  we  exchanged  anecdotes  of  ' '  finds. ' ' 

Again  as  I  was  showing  her  a  piece  of  Dresden,  she 
told  me  how,  as  a  girl,  when  she  was  travelling  in  Europe 
with  her  father  they  had  gone  to  all  of  the  potteries,  and 
how  she  never  could  see  a  piece  of  the  old  world  ware 
without  its  bringing  up  a  series  of  pictures.  She  gave  a 
little  laugh  as  she  added, — 

''All  that  was  long,  long  ago,  my  dear,  in  what  often 
now  seems  a  sort  of  dream  world  to  me." 

I  was  fairly  bursting  with  curiosity  and  interest  and 
had  to  exert  all  of  my  powers  of  control  to  keep  from 
begging  her  to  "tell  more,"  but  that  was  all  of  herself 
that  she  told. 

Her  sharp  eyes  also  have  seen  the  appropriateness  of  a 
union  between  the  doctor  and  that  blessed  Martha  Far- 
rish,  but  when  I  ventured  to  hope  that  he  would  realize 
it  she  shook  her  head  doubtfully  and  said, — 

"I  fear  not,  my  dear;  men  love  beauty  of  face  and 
body  and  our  Martha  has  it  only  of  the  heart  and  soul. '  * 

MAY  4TH, — 

Have  fallen  into  the  habit  of  remaining  for  a  bit  of 
gossip  and  tea  with  Mr.  Armstead  whenever  I  go.  The  boy 
seems  to  enjoy  hearing  about  what  he  calls  my  "shim- 
mies ' '  and  insists  upon  it  that  my  visits  do  him  heaps  of 
good.  He  is  very  curious  to  know  about  our  little  Duch- 
ess and  one  afternoon  taking  turns  at  it  we  wrote  out 

79 


CHUMS 

what  we  have  named  "The  Duchess  of  Cat  Alley,"  and 
as  we  both  have  vivid  imaginations  we  have  woven  a  good 
story.  If  I  am  ever  well  enough  acquainted  with  her  or 
she  takes  me  further  into  her  confidence,  I  will  read  it  to 
her.  Mr.  Armstead  has  typewritten  two  copies  so  that 
we  each  have  one.  Typewriting  is  one  of  his  relaxations, 
he  says,  and  he  can  write  with  remarkable  speed. 

I  told  him  once  that  if  he  lost  his  money  he  could  keep 
the  wolf  at  least  two  fields  away,  and  then  he  laughed 
and  said, — 

"I  could  do  better  than  that.  I've  another  accom- 
plishment that  you  don't  know  of  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  don't  tell  anyone  of  it  as  it  is  not  considered  exactly  a 
manly  one." 

He  rang  for  his  man  and  told  him  to  bring  the  box 
from  the  further  end  of  the  room  and  there  I  saw  a 
quantity  of  the  most  wonderful  embroidery.  Such  color- 
ing, such  fineness  of  work  I  never  before  have  seen,  even 
at  the  art  needlework  schools.  I  was  so  lost  in  admira- 
tion that  the  pathos  of  the  thing  did  not  strike  me  until 
I  had  left  and  I  am  glad  it  did  not,  for  if  it  had  I  never 
in  the  world  could  have  hidden  it  from  him.  As  it  was, 
my  apparent  acceptance  of  the  thing  and  admiration  of 
the  work,  my  taking  it  as  though  it  were  a  regular  and 
accepted  thing  that  had  nothing  of  strangeness  or  un- 
usualness  in  it,  bridged  that  gulf  successfully,  and  he 
insisted  upon  my  taking  a  lovely  portfolio  case  as  a  little 
souvenir  of  our  friendship.  I  shall  never  look  on  the 
beautiful  work  without  seeing  a  picture  of  the  dear  boy 
making  the  best  of  his  sad  plight,  with  the  fine  serenity 
and  acceptance  of  fate,  that  many  a  well,  strong  and  so- 
called  manly  fellow  would  find  it  hard  to  emulate. 

Mr.  Warren  walked  home  with  me  the  other  day,  and 
I  invited  him  up  to  have  a  cup  of  tea.  Nora  and  Miss 
Farrish  came  in  shortly  afterwards,  and  a  few  seconds 
later,  the  doctor. 

"We  had  a  very  charming  time,  my  older  friends  put 

80 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

Mr.  W.  quite  at  his  ease,  and  he  came  out  splendidly  un- 
der the  combined  influence  of  the  tea  and  our  cheerful 
chatter.  He  is  another  of  the  ' '  lonely  ones ' '  for  he  men- 
tioned casually  that  he  had  no  relatives  and  did  not  eas- 
ily make  friends.  I  cannot  understand  why,  for  he  is 
a  most  companionable  man.  I  find  that  he  has  a  great 
affection  for  my  dear,  crippled  laddie,  and  agrees  with 
me  that  the  boy  has  been  and  is  most  plucky  in  his  ac- 
ceptance of  the  rather  terrible  limitations  of  his  life. 

' '  Tom  Scott, ' '  whose  name,  by  the  way,  is  Tom  Finly, 
has  finished  David  Copperfield  and  now  is  deep  in  Dom- 
bey  and  Son.  He  informed  me  that  "that  there  Dickens 
must  have  been  a  real,  live  one, ' '  with  which  bit  of  criti- 
cism I  heartily  agreed.  I  can  see  now  that  he  will  not 
stop  short  of  the  last  blessed  one  of  the  stories. 

MAY  15TH,— 

Am  not  sticking  quite  to  the  weekly  summing  up,  but 
the  days  do  fly  so.  Went  to  see  the  sick  sister  of  the  ele- 
vator boy  and  found  a  pale,  sickly  woman  of  thirty-five 
or  so,  whose  ill-health  had  soured  her  temper  and  whose 
complaining,  peevish  voice  was  hard  to  bear.  I  pitied  my 
friend  the  E.  B.  The  little  daughter  was  a  nice  little 
thing  whose  careful,  old,  small  face  might  have  belonged 
to  a  woman  of  forty.  How  quickly  these  children  of  the 
poor  take  on  the  look  of  years!  My  heart  goes  out  to 
them. 

The  room  I  was  received  in  was  very  neat  and  com- 
fortable and  the  sick  woman  tidy  and  free  from  that  at- 
mosphere of  neglected  body  that  is  one  of  the  hardest 
things  for  me  to  bear.  One  could  see  that  while  there 
was  certain  poverty,  it  was  not  of  the  sordid  kind,  and 
she  told  me  that  besides  the  work  her  brother  did  during 
the  day  he  did  some  wood-carvings,  evenings.  Poor  fel- 
low, it  can  hardly  be  a  pleasant  life,  having  to  listen  to 
the  fretful  repinings  of  the  sick  woman  and  having  all 

81 


CHUMS 

his  kindness  taken  for  granted.  The  woman  even  com- 
plained to  me  that  her  brother  ' '  had  no  ambition  "  or  he 
would  be  doing  work  that  paid  better. 

The  little  girl  came  downstairs  with  me  to  open  the 
door  and,  I  think,  more  to  tell  me  that  "Uncle  Ned  was 
the  kindest  man  and  I  must  not  mind  what  mother  said, 
she  was  so  poorly  that  sometimes  she  said  things  that 
sounded  as  though  she  did  not  realize  how  kind  Uncle 
Ned  was." 

That  was  my  first  experience  of  fretfulness  in  these 
poor  souls  of  the  harder  life,  and  afterwards  when  I 
spoke  of  it  to  Miss  Farrish,  she  said  in  her  kind,  sensible 
way,— 

"Well,  you  have  been  lucky,  my  dear,  and  when  you 
remember  how  much  downright  peevishness  and  discon- 
tent there  is  amongst  people  whose  lives  are  laid  in  places 
that  would  seem  sheer  paradise  to  our  poor  folk,  you 
must  not  be  surprised  to  find  it  occasionally  every- 
where. ' ' 

MAY  22ND,— 

Last  night  I  had  a  shock.  As  I  was  taking  my  evening 
constitutional  about  five-thirty,  I  saw  little  Alantha  May, 
ahead  of  me,  linger  a  second  as  she  came  up  to  old 
"Goody  Nan's"  apple  stall,  and  as  Nan  was  busy  with 
her  work  of  polishing  fruit  at  the  further  end,  I  saw  her 
quickly  take  an  apple  and  run  as  if  possessed.  I  had 
not  seen  the  McG's  for  some  days  and  thought  I  would 
follow  up  this  incident  with  a  call  and  try  and  get  speech 
with  Alantha  May.  I  stopped  in  at  the  mission  and  saw 
Martha,  but  did  not  say  anything  of  what  I  had  seen, 
only  inquired  if  she  had  been  to  visit  the  McG  's  since  the 
week  before. 

Yes,  she  had,  it  seemed,  and  was  worried  over  the  way 
they  all  looked,  "Why,  quite  starved,  sort  of  lean  and 
hungry,"  and  when  she  spoke  of  it  to  Muriel  Anastasia, 

82 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

M.  A.  flushed  up  and  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes,  but  she 
did  not  say  anything.  ' '  Of  course  it  must  be  the  «ir  of 
the  place.  It  cannot  be  anything  else,  for  since  she  was 
given  the  hundred  dollars  she  cannot  really  want." 

I  listened,  but  made  no  reply  for  suddenly  out  of  noth- 
ing had  come  to  me  the  reason  of  the  children's  pinched 
looks,  and  Muriel  Anastasia 's  tears.  Why  of  course  the 
poor,  dear  thing  was  keeping  them  all  on  the  lowest  pos- 
sible diet  to  stave  off  that  dreadful  day  of  separation  by 
making  the  money  last  longer.  I  could  have  cried  like  a 
baby. 

When  I  got  around  there  I  had  some  difficulty  in 
climbing  the  long,  steep  flights,  for  I  had  bought  various 
things  at  the  corner  grocery,  and  in  my  endeavor  to  avoid 
touching  the  greasy  walls,  tripping  over  my  skirt,  or 
dropping  the  bundles,  I  was  breathless.  On  the  top  land- 
ing I  collided  violently  with  Muriel  Anastasia  who  was 
rushing  along  with  whimpering  Alantha  May  in  tow  and 
as  we  recovered  from  the  shock  and  recognized  each  oth- 
er's voices,— for  it  was  by  now  too  dark  to  see  one  other 
distinctly,— she  explained  that  "that  bad,  wicked  girl," 
shaking  poor  Alantha  May,  "had  been  and  stole  a  apple" 
and  she  was  taking  her  to  beg  forgiveness  and  give  it  up. 

I  thought  it  better  to  let  her  execute  her  project  and 
said  that  I  would  go  in  and  see  the  children,  as  I  had 
some  things  for  them. 

I  found  the  three  small  mites  all  sitting  in  the  middle 
of  the  bed,  having  promised  not  to  stir  until  the  return 
of  their  sisters,  and  so  I  amused  myself  by  undoing  the 
various  packages  and  starting  a  fire  in  the  little  stove, 
which  was  suspiciously  cold  and  tidy  looking.  Then  I 
opened  two  cans  of  soup,  heated  it,  and  filling  three 
bowls,  started  those  blessed  brats  to  filling  up  their  little 
"tummies"  with  soup  supplemented  by  large  slices  of 
bread  and  drippings.  Arranged  the  rest  of  the  things 
on  the  bare  shelf  of  the  forlorn  cupboard  and  was  feeling 
better  when  Muriel  Anastasia  and  the  prodigal  returned. 

83 


CHUMS 

Goodness  knows  what  had  been  the  scene,  but  evidently  a 
hard  one  for  the  small  sinner. 

I  begged  pardon  for  having  made  myself  so  much  at 
home  and  bustled  about  re-filling  the  bowls  of  those  hun- 
gry youngsters,  who  were  in  such  a  state  of  beatitude 
that  they  were  speechless.  Then  I  made  Muriel  Anasta- 
sia  sit  down  and  eat,  and  gave  the  repentant  one  a  bowl 
of  extra  thick  and  noodley  soup  and  a  reassuring  pat  on 
the  despondent  small  shoulders,  thinking  she  had  been 
punished  sufficiently.  After  a  little  I  left  and  went  home 
to  my  own  supper. 

I  spoke  to  old  "Goody  Nan"  about  it  to-day  and  she 
shook  her  old  head  over  Muriel  Anastasia's  severity, 
saying,— 

"Bless  the  child,  but  she  do  take  on  as  though  nippin' 
a  apple  was  a  crime.  She  most  frightened  that  child  into 
fits,  telling  her  she'd  be  took  away  to  jail  in  the  'black 
Maria,'  but  she's  a  certain  wonder,  that  Muriel  Anasta- 
sia.  Why,  a  body'd  think  her  forty,  she's  that  old  and 
settled  like." 

I  was  greatly  amused  to  find  that  "Goody  Nan"  was 
much  more  disposed  to  be  lenient  with  the  small  sinner 
than  commendatory  of  the  small  saint. 

JUNE  2o,— 

Oh,  such  heavenly  weather  as  it  is !  I  find  it  hard  to 
settle  to  my  work.  The  fields  call  to  me  and  the  woods. 
Have  played  truant  twice  in  less  than  a  fortnight,  once 
with  the  doctor  and  Miss  Farrish,  once  with  Nora;  and 
heavenly  days  they  were.  On  Wednesday  I  am  going 
to  take  the  McG's  out  to  the  park  for  the  day.  It  seems 
that  only  Muriel  Anastasia  has  ever  been,  and  that  but 
once,  so  I  shall  have  the  time  of  my  life  watching  them. 

Alantha  May  has  been  restored  to  partial  favor  with 
the  head  of  the  house,  so  does  not  look  so  woe-begone  as 


84 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

she  did.  I  have  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Armstead  who  has 
thought  of  a  way  to  give  the  entire  lot  a  full  year's  life 
in  the  country. 

It  seems  that  the  care-takers  of  a  place  of  his  want  to 
go  back  home  for  a  year's  visit  and  the  position  is  one 
that  Muriel  Anastasia,  with  her  intelligence,  could  fill 
equally  well,  as  it  is  only  to  keep  dust  and  damp  away 
from  rooms  now  almost  never  used.  There  is  a  big  gar- 
den and  an  orchard,  which  with  the  home  farm  is  rented 
to  a  neighboring  farmer,  and  they  can  have  their  fill  of 
vegetables,  fruit  and  milk  for  the  going  for  it.  It  will  be 
just  heaven. 

I  am  to  break  it  to  M.  A.  the  day  of  the  picnic,  and  I 
have  begged  the  fun  of  taking  them  to  L.  and  seeing 
them  installed. 

I  asked  Mr.  Armstead, — 

"Why  don't  you  go  there  sometimes  if  it  is  as  lovely 
and  quiet  as  you  say  ? ' ' 

"No,  it's  too  quiet,"  he  answered.  "Although  I  am 
not  of  this  life  here,  still  I  like  to  feel  it  all  about  me. 
I  am  a  city  man.  Like  Charles  Lamb,  I  cannot  bear  to  be 
away  from  the  sound  of  the  Bow  bells  which,  in  my  case, 
is  Trinity  Chimes;  but  the  old  place  belonged  to  an  old 
aunt,  who  loved  me  and  was  like  a  mother  to  me,  so  I  can- 
not bear  to  sell  it ;  and  I  just  keep  it  from  going  to  rack 
and  ruin,  that  is  about  all." 

Mr.  Warren  is  now  quite  one  of  our  small  coterie  and 
improves  with  knowing.  He,  it  seems,  has  discovered 
' '  Tom  Scott 's ' '  mad  devotion  to  Dickens.  Just  now  he  is 
with  "Nicholas"  at  "Dotheboy's  Hall"  and  Mr.  Warren 
came  across  him  enacting  the  scene  of  the  "Uprising" 
with  a  lot  of  other  boys  in  the  building,  he  being  ' '  Nicho- 
las." 

I  asked  Tom  the  other  day,  what  he  was  going  to  be 
when  he  became  a  man  and  he  said, — 

' '  Oh,  a  writer-fellow  like  Dickens. ' ' 


85 


CHUMS 

I  admired  his  modesty!  He  really  is  a  most  amusing 
youngster  and  as  I  talk  with  him  occasionally  am  amazed 
at  his  quickness  of  perception. 

Am  trying  to  get  Nora  to  go  with  me  to  Bassett  Beach 
for  August.  She  wants  to,  but  seems  not  to  think  that 
she  can. 

I  have  twice  met  her  sister  Claire  going  up  to  her 
room  and  once  I  am  certain  that  she  had  been  drinking. 
Oh,  what  a  hard  time  we  lay  up  for  ourselves  when  we 
go  counter  to  our  best !  Of  course  some  of  us  escape  the 
consequences  in  this  life,  but  we  have  to  pay  our  debt 
some  time.  Since  I  know  the  law  and  its  workings,  I  look 
with  doubled  pity  upon  the  poor  souls  who  are  doing 
their  penance  in  the  form  of  fearful  physical  ills— the 
blind,  and  crippled,  and  diseased ;  and  lucky  is  my  crip- 
pled laddie  that  he  has  come  into  a  knowledge  of  the  law, 
for  it  does  make  it  easier  for  him  to  bear  it. 

JUNE  15TH,— 

Here  I  am  at  my  old  tricks  of  letting  my  diary  severe- 
ly alone,  but  it  has  been  a  time  of  such  excitement  and 
business  that  I  really  justified  my  disloyalty  to  myself. 

First  on  the  list  of  happenings,  I  think,  was  my  taking 
the  McG's  en  masse  to  the  park.  I  made  it  a  Sunday 
picnic,  because  I  wanted  to  get  that  good  little  Jamie  in 
and  likewise  "Tom  Scott,"  who,  being  of  such  an  ad- 
vanced age  and  of  much  executive  ability,  I  made  my 
right  hand  in  marshalling  my  small  troupe. 

We  left  at  nine  o'clock  on  a  perfect  day  with  our 
lunch  put  up  for  us  in  individual  packages,  easy  to  dis- 
tribute and  carry,  and  I  think  I  can  safely  say  that  never 
a  "shiny-cleaner,"  more  beaming  lot  of  youngsters  ever 
started  for  a  day  of  fun.  Likewise  a  dirtier  or  more 
proudly  tired  lot  never  left  the  park  gates  when  five 
o'clock  came.  Mr.  Armstead  had  given  me  ten  dollars  to 
treat  with,  and  although  I  know  I  should,  by  rights, 

86 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

have  spent  it  in  more  practical  ways  and  let  the  children 
get  all  of  their  fun  out  of  the  joys  of  grass  and  tree, 
frolic  and  fun  that  cost  nothing,  I  did  not  follow  that 
' '  still  small  voice ' '  of  practicality,  but  instead  they  were 
allowed  to  fairly  riot  in  swanboat  rides,  donkey  rides, 
goat  carriages  and  all  and  every  one  of  the  joys,  so  much 
matters  of  course  to  the  average  child,  such  undreamed 
of  rapture  to  my  poor  things.  "Tom  Scott"  was  inval- 
uable and  kept  the  band  together  as  a  trusty  collie  does 
his  sheep,  when  the  wildness  of  rioting  spring  claimed 
them  for  its  own  and  they  wanted  to  climb  everything 
climbable,  lie  prone  upon  every  grassy  slope  and  kick  up 
their  heels  generally.  It  was  a  great  success  and  will  be 
talked  of  for  ages. 

I  broke  the  good  news  to  Muriel  Anastasia  and  the 
poor  thing  was  as  if  stunned.  I  went  over  it  all  a  second 
time  before  she  could  realize  its  truth.  Then  she  put  her 
head  down  and  cried  with  joy  and  nothing  would  do  but 
I  must  let  her  go  some  day  and  thank  the  sick  gentleman 
for  his  goodness. 

After  Mr.  Armstead  had  written  and  made  the  neces- 
sary arrangements  I  took  the  children  down  to  their  new 
home. 

We  arrived  at  four  o  'clock  and  found  a  big,  old,  three- 
seated  family  carriage  awaiting  us,  with  Mr.  Frost,  the 
tenant  farmer,  holding  the  reins  of  a  couple  of  strong 
farm  horses,  and  we  piled  in,  bag  and  baggage. 

The  drive  of  two  miles  was  beautiful  and  made  to  an 
accompaniment  of  exclamation  such  as, — "Muriel  Anas- 
tasia, look  at  those  little  cows!"  "Oh,  Mrs. ,  see  all 

those  curly-haired  sheepses!"  And,  "Oh,  Jamie,  see 
the  water  flowers ! ' ' 

When  we  arrived  at  the  big,  roomy,  stone  house  we 
were  made  welcome  by  Mrs.  Frost,  the  farmer's  wife, 
who  had  come  over  to  the  ' '  Great  House, "  as  it  is  called, 
to  make  us  feel  at  home,  which  she  did  well ;  and,  after 
she  had  explained  the  duties  to  Muriel  A.,  showed  us  all 

87 


CHUMS 

over  the  place  and  assigned  to  the  McG's  their  quar- 
ters, nice  comfortable  rooms  and  kitchen,  and  to  me,  as 
guest,  the  state  bed  chamber  (whose  old  mahogany  made 
me  gasp  with  envy)  she  took  her  departure,  leaving  be- 
hind her  a  veritable  wake  of  good  things. 

We  ate  our  first  meal  on  the  broad,  vine-shaded,  kitch- 
en porch. 

I  remained  four  days  and  wished  a  thousand  times 
each  day  that  Mr.  Armstead  could  see  what  joy  his  kind- 
ness had  brought  to  these  poor  waifs. 

Muriel  A.,  I  feel  certain,  will  make  no  sinecure  of  this 
position,  but  keep  everything  spick  and  span  and  the  so 
long  closed,  musty,  handsome  old  rooms  will  be  as  sweet 
and  dustless  as  though  the  owner  were  expected  daily. 

Besides  their  living,  Muriel  A.  is  to  get  ten  dollars  a 
month  and  Jamie  a  dollar  a  week  for  looking  after  the 
chores  for  Mr.  Frost,  whose  last  boy  had  left  him  just 
when  we  arrived.  I  can  see  the  kind  hand  of  my  thought- 
ful laddie  in  all  and  my  heart  is  very  full  of  gratitude  to 
him. 

Every  evening  when  Muriel  A.  puts  the  small  fry  to 
bed  they  say  a  prayer  for  him  and  it  ends  with  ' '  Please 
God,  make  the  sick  gentleman  well  in  the  legs  again." 
When  I  first  heard  it  I  nearly  strangled  between  the  de- 
sire to  laugh  and  the  surety  that  I  must  weep.  Bless 
their  grateful  little  hearts !  When  I  told  him  of  it  he  did 
a  little  of  both  and  as  we  are  become  such  good  chums, 
he  was  not  ashamed  of  the  tears  shed  before  me. 

Mr.  Warren  slipped  and  broke  his  ankle  and  when  I 
heard  of  it  I  straightway  wrote  him  how  sorry  we  all 
were  and  said  that  if  he  found  time  hang  heavy  and 
wanted  some  cheering  up,  to  let  us  know  and  we  would 
come  in  relays  to  liven  him  up. 

His  reply  was  prompt,  and  Nora  and  I  one  after- 
noon donned  our  best  and,  stopping  first  for  a  big  bunch 

of  field  flowers,  we  went  up  to St.  and  rang  the  bell 

of  a  tall,  stooped  house.  A  cross  looking  housekeeper 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

opened  the  door  and,  I  thought,  very  grudgingly  ush- 
ered us  into  her  master's  den,  where  we  found  our  in- 
valid looking  very  wan  and  ill,  and  with  his  foot  and  leg 
in  a  plaster  east.  It  seems  it  was  a  very  bad  break,  not 
only  of  the  ankle,  but  of  the  leg,  and  the  doctors  look 
grave  and  think  there  may  be  complications.  After  we 
had  said  the  things  that  we  had  to  say  about  how  sorry, 
and  so  forth,  we  were,  we  put  in  the  remainder  of  the 
time  making  him  forget  his  pain. 

Nora  played  for  him,— the  dear,  thoughtful  thing  had 
brought  her  violin,— and  I  told  him  all  about  the  instal- 
lation of  the  McG's  in  the  ''Great  House"  and  every 
other  bit  of  news  that  I  thought  he  would  enjoy  hearing. 

Then  we  made  tea,  and  afterwards  we  had  a  Kipling 
hour.  Altogether  it  was  a  great  success  and  we  left  in 
fine  feather  with  the  most  urgent  invitation  to  come 
again,  -and  ' '  oh,  please,  good  Samaritans,  soon. "  So  we 
said  that  we  would  go  around  the  following  week,  and  in 
the  meantime  the  doctor  and  Miss  Farrish  will  go. 

' '  Tom  Scott ' '  informed  me  that  the  ' '  boss ' ' — meaning 
Mr.  Warren — was  a  "first  class  feller"  and  that  he 
guessed  that  on  the  next  Sunday  he  would  "go  up  and 
see  the  old  chap. ' '  The  sentiment  being  commendable,  I 
only  lightly  dwelt  on  the  enormity  of  the  phrasing. 

The  bump  of  reverence  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence  in 
that  young  hopeful,  but  there  are  a  number  of  other 
bumps  that  are  very  prominent.  Some  day  I  shall  have 
him  go  and  get  a  chart,  for  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken, 
there  is  going  to  be,  in  the  words  of  himself,  ' '  something 
doing  when  he  gets  growed. ' ' 

I  told  him  I  thought  he  should  go  to  night  school  and 
he  has  taken  my  suggestion  under  consideration. 

I  asked  him  the  other  day  if  he  was  not  tired  of  Dick- 
ens yet,  and  wouldn  't  like  to  try  someone  else  ? 

He  looked  at  me  in  great  disguest  and  said,— 

' '  Say,  Mrs.  Doctor,  what  ye  givin '  me  ? " 

He  confided  to  me  that  "that  there  Muriel  girl  was  a 

89 


CHUMS 

corker  with  the  children  and  no  end  smart!  guessed  he'd 
marry  her  some  day,  and  he'd  always  thought  a  feller 'd 
ought  to  get  a  girl  what  was  used  to  kids,  so  she'd  take 
proper  care  of  her  own,  and  say  Mrs.  Doctor,  d'you  see 
how  slick  all  them  kids  was  washed  and  togged  out? 
That's  the  kind  of  a  girl  for  me."  Evidently  one  of  the 
bumps  on  that  knobby  head  of  Tom's  is  philo-progeni- 
tiveness. 

I  have  talked  Bassett  Beach  to  Nora  until  she  stops  her 
ears  now  when  I  commence  to  plan,  but  I  intend  that 
she  shall  go  if  I  have  to  chloroform  her  and  abduct  her 
bodily.  She  is  looking  wretched  and  I  know  is  worrying 
over  that  sister. 

I  hope  I  shall  some  day  have  an  opportunity  to  talk 
to  that  airy  person.  I  feel  it  in  me  to  tell  her  a  few 
plain  truths. 

JULY  20TH,— 

I  make  no  more  excuses  to  you,  my  good  diary,  for  I 
have  no  new  ones  and  the  old  ones  are  worn  threadbare. 

Mr.  Warren  is  accepting  with  exemplary  patience  what 
promises  to  be  a  long  confinement  to  the  house  and  has 
had  the  back  wall  of  a  room  on  the  first  floor  knocked 
out  bodily,  a  wire  netting  put  in  its  place,  potted  plants 
and  hanging  baskets  about,  rugs  on  the  floor  and  basket- 
chairs  and  tables  scattered  about,  so,  as  it  has  an  eastern 
exposure,  it  is  delightfully  cool,  shady  and  comfortable 
on  these  warm  afternoons. 

The  summer  is  early  and  hot  and  we  all  have  taken  to 
dropping  in  to  tea  with  both  Mr.  W.  and  Mr.  A.  about 
four-thirty  on  these  sultry  days.  If  only  it  were  possi- 
ble to  get  our  two  invalids  together,  so  we  could  all  gath- 
er about  the  mildly  festive  board  at  the  same  time,  it 
would  be  jolly,  but  it  seems  a  problem  to  get  either  of 
them  moved.  I  did  suggest  an  ambulance  to  Mr.  Arm- 
stead  upon  which  his  bed  could  be  lifted,  but  he  turned 

90 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

so  queer  and  white  at  the  thought  I  never  again  broached 
the  subject.  So  we  just  divide  up  forces;  the  doctor 
and  Miss  F.,  Nora  and  I,  that  seems  the  way  it  falls  out 
generally. 

On  the  first,  I  go  for  a  month  to  Bassett  Beach  and 
have  hopes  of  getting  Nora  to  consent  to  go. 

I  saw  her  sister  Claire  last  week  one  afternoon  and  I 
asked  her  to  come  up  to  my  room  for  a  moment  as  I 
wanted  to  consult  her  about  Nora.  She  came  very  re- 
luctantly, but  I  did  not  give  her  an  opportunity  to  back 
out,  and  when  I  had  got  her  seated  by  the  window  and 
I  had  taken  a  chair  between  her  and  the  door  I  outraged 
the  "sacred"  rights  of  hospitality,  and  I  gave  her  a 
proper  talking  to.  I  don't  know  just  what  it  all  was, 
for  I  lost  my  head  I  was  so  angry,  and  finally  when  I  had 
reduced  myself  to  mental  pulp  and  was  on  the  verge  of 
tears,  I  stopped.  The  poor  thing  was  in  even  a  worse 
plight  and  I  saw  that  I  must  quickly  control  myself  and 
her  or  there  would  be  a  fit  of  hysterics.  So  I  pulled  my- 
self together  and  undid  some  of  my  good  work,  I  fear, 
but  she  was  finally  calmed  a  little  and  now  I  am  glad  I 
let  myself  loose ;  for  the  talk,  if  it  could  be  called  that, 
has  borne  fruit  already  and  Nora  received  a  note  from 
her  saying  that  she  had  joined  a  troupe  of  vaudeville 
artists,— save  the  mark!— and  was  starting  immediately 
for  the  West ;  so  that  is  a  good  many  steps  up,  as  it  means 
work.  Nora  can  once  more  draw  a  breath  free  from 
fear,  and  I  shall  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity  pre- 
sented to  win  her  over  to  the  Bassett  Beach  trip. 

AUGUST  20TH,— 

Well,  here  we  are  in  the  proverbial  clover  and  have 
been  for  twenty  long  perfect  days,  as  we  arrived  on  the 
evening  of  the  first. 

My  little  Nora  looks  years  younger  and  worlds  better 
and  we  are  going  to  stay  until  September  eighth. 

91 


CHUMS 

Such  days  of  sun  and  sea  breeze,  of  loafing  on  the 
sands  or  short  trips  inland  to  the  pine  woods !  We  have 
been  so  lazy  and  so  comfy. 

Are  installed  with  a  nice  old  couple  in  a  tiny,  ancient, 
stone  cottage,  only  a  few  minutes'  walk  from  the  beach. 
We  get  good,  plain,  country  fare  and  we  live,  eat  and 
sleep  out-of-doors,  for  I  promptly  moved  our  mattresses 
out  on  the  veranda  the  very  first  night.  One  can  sleep  in 
rooms  when  one  must,  but  here  we  choose  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  four  walls,  except  to  dress  between. 

Miss  Farrish  is  to  come  here  for  a  much  needed  rest 
on  the  twenty -seventh,  and  go  back  when  we  do  on  the 
eighth. 

Our  two  invalids  wrote  us  that  we  are  missed  woe- 
fully, and  I  answered  that  there  was  no  reason,  if  that 
was  the  case,  that  they  should  not  join  us,  bringing  our 
big  doctor  along  as  attendant  physician.  Have  as  yet 
had  no  answer. 

Received  a  long  and  enthusiastic  letter  from  Muriel  A., 
who  is  evidently  taking  both  the  position  and  herself 
very  seriously,  and  who  gave  me  a  lengthy  and  detailed 
description  of  the  great  house-cleaning  she  had  under- 
taken. 

Jamie,  good  little  chap,  has  settled  to  his  work  as 
' '  chore  boy ' '  quite  as  heartily,  and  M.  A.  says  that  he  in- 
tends to  be  a  farmer.  Does  he  ?  Bless  him ! 

Also,  I  hear  that  "Tom  Scott"  appeared  one  Satur- 
day, at  supper-time,  having  procured  a  half -holiday  and 
wanting  to  see  them  all,  had  taken  a  ticket  to  W.,  and 
walked  the  rest  of  the  way,  a  good  sixteen  miles.  Good 
for  Tom.  Any  boy  who  is  willing  to  walk  thirty-two 
miles  to  see  and  be  with  his  "admired  one"  for  only  a 
few  hours,  certainly  deserves  a  cordial  reception. 

I  am  much  amused  over  the  affair  and  I  have  not  the 
slightest  doubt  in  the  world  that  if  Tom  stays  of  the 
same  mind  in  regard  to  Muriel  Anastasia  for  a  few  years 
longer,  there  will  be  a  wedding  on  his  hands.  These  chil- 

92 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

dren  of  the  poor  are  very  precocious  in  their  mating  and 
settling.  One  sees  young  mothers  of  fifteen  and  fathers 
of  nineteen  and  twenty  all  about  in  our  neighborhood 
and  I  have  changed  my  views  in  many  respects,  since 
coming  into  close  contact  with  humanity,  about  many 
things. 

Near  us  is  a  little  fishing  village;  the  people  are  a 
kindly,  rugged  folk,  not  unlike  their  own  rocky  coast,  and 
I  wish  time  and  again  that  I  could  sketch.  Nora  does 
very  good  work,  singularly  unamateurish,  talented  soul 
that  she  is,  and  we  shall  bring  back  a  fat  sketch  book 
with  us. 

I  wrote  in  one  of  my  letters  to  Mr.  W.  about  things 
here,  and  he,  with  his  quick  thoughtfulness,  sent  by  re- 
turn post  his  camera,  delicately  taking  all  sense  of  obli- 
gation away  by  a  request  for  some  "shots  of  the  place 
and  people."  So,  furbishing  up  my  rusty  knowledge 
anent  photography,  I  went  merrily  to  work  to  make  a 
companion  book  to  Nora 's  and  have  been  so  lucky  already 
that  it  waxes  fat  with  pictures.  The  little  "God  of 
Chance ' '  loves  beginners  and  so  my  ' '  snaps ' '  have  turned 
out  well.  We  rigged  up  a  dark-room  and  after  a  little 
experimenting  I  got  the  hang  of  the  washes. 

SEPT.  TTH, — 

To-morrow  we  leave  for  home,  and  most  reluctantly. 
These  last  two  weeks  have  been  glorious  fun,  for  our  in- 
valids and  Miss  Farrish  and  the  big  doctor  have  been 
with  us.  It  was  all  arranged  so  easily  that  we  were  sorry 
it  had  not  been  determined  upon  earlier.  Miss  Farrish 
stayed  with  us,  and  the  three  men  and  two  servants  with 
a  neighbor,  whose  old  rambling  farmhouse  could  com- 
fortably hold  them.  So  it  has  been  one  long,  jolly  picnic 
and  we  find  that  even  the  daily  meeting  does  not  make 
us  tired  of  each  other. 

We  have  had  heavenly  long  days  on  the  beach,  reading, 

93 


CHUMS 

sketching,  and  talking;  evenings  before  big  bonfires, 
when  Nora  played,  Mr.  W.  sang, — he  has  a  fine  voice, — 
and  my  laddie  and  I  told  stories.  We  are  decided  that 
such  marked  talent  as  we  possess  must  be  given  to  a 
larger  world  and  this  next  winter  we  are  going  to  write  a 
book  together. 

Great  larks  it  has  been  and  we  are  all  freshened  up 
and  looking  and  feeling  like  different  people.  It's  good 
to  go  back  a  few  years,  oft-times,  and  be  young  again. 

Miss  Farrish  has  certainly  grown  pretty.  Something 
has  come  into  that  good,  kind  face  of  hers  that  brings  a 
lump  to  my  throat.  Oh,  why  doesn't  our  doctor  see  how 
splendid  she  is  and  love  her  and  want  her  ?  What  verit- 
able bats  men  are !  Much  as  I  like  him  and  hugely  as  I 
admire  him  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  shake  him  into 
a  realization  of  things.  Ah,  me!  I  am  afraid  our  small 
Duchess  is  right,  men  see  only  prettiness  and  seeing  that, 
are  quite  content  to  believe  all  other  gifts  go  with  it; 
which,  thanks  be!  they  don't  or  else  where  would  our 
just  old  law  of  compensation  come  in  ? 

This  afternoon  we  had  our  last  clam  bake  and  invited 
all  of  our  neighbors,  so  it  was  a  jolly  affair,  and  as  we 
have  grown  very  chummy  with  them  all,  we  have  had 
many  cordial  invitations  to  come  back  next  summer. 

Oh,  what  a  dear  old  world  it  is  and  what  a  supreme 
gift  life  is,  always  given  good  health :  that  is  my  only  re- 
quirement of  it.  All  of  the  rest  I  feel  quite  capable  of 
adding  at  my  own  sweet  will,  and  the  things  I  win  or  get 
by  my  own  efforts  are  heaps  more  precious  to  me  than 
the  things  I  have  not  earned.  I  often  laugh  when  I  think 
how  happy  and  content  I  am  in  my  new  life,  and  I  won- 
der how  I  could  have  waited  so  long  before  coming  into 
my  own.  Oh,  that  old  life  of  luxurious,  easy-nothing- 
ness, with  no  grip  on  life 's  verities !  It  takes  a  different 
temperament  from  mine  to  belong  to  it  and  keep  happy ! 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 
SEPT.  20TH,— 

I  seem  to  be  taken  with  an  attack  of  "  diary  con- 
science" once  in  so  often.  I  don't  dare  look  my  earlier 
promises  of  " weekly  summing  up"  in  the  face. 

When  we  arrived  at  home,  the  entire  "Sunny  South 
Colony"  greeted  us  and  we  found  a  great  surprise.  Our 
landlady,  dear  old  soul,  had  cut  a  door  through  on  the 
upper  landing  so  that  Nora  and  I  could  visit  without 
having  all  of  those  stairs  to  climb,  as  there  was  no  chance 
of  any  rooms  being  vacated  in  either  house  so  that  we 
might  live  together. 

Our  rooms  were  clean  and  shining  and  our  cupboards 
filled.  New  pots  of  plants  on  our  sills.  Our  curtains 
had  been  laundered,  and  everything  that  was  shineable 
polished  to  mirrorlike  brightness,  and  all  of  the  kind, 
jolly  folk  beamed  upon  us  in  a  most  heartwarming  man- 
ner. The  feeling  of  being  liked  quite  for  one's  self  is 
very  gratifying,  I  find. 

Of  course,  this  new  arrangement  makes  for  an  im- 
mense amount  of  comfort,  and  I  have  taken  over  the  com- 
missary department.  Nora  really  does  dislike  cooking 
and  fussing  and  I  like  it  and  seem  to  have  a  gift  for  it. 
She  takes  the  dusting  and  general  ' '  redding  up "  on  her 
shoulders,  so  things  go  already  as  though  they  always 
had  been  so  arranged. 

The  first  Sunday  we  had  our  Duchess  up  to  dinner  and 
the  doctor  and  Miss  Farrish  came  in  about  eight. 

Went  around  to  see  the  invalids  after  my  work  was 
done  on  Monday  and  found  them  both  chafing  at  the 
hardness  of  their  lot.  It  was  funny,  but  I  hid  my  amuse- 
ment and  jollied  them  up.  Those  two  weeks  of-  fresh  air, 
sunshine  and  out-of-doors  just  spoiled  them  for  going 
back  to  houses  and  confinement,  not  to  speak  of  the  depri- 
vation of  our  society. 

I  told  my  laddie  that  if  he  felt  so  miserable  he'd  bet- 
ter go  down  to  the  "Great  House"  for  a  month. 

95 


CHUMS 

( '  What,  alone  ? "  he  asked  reproachfully. 

"Yes,  why  not?  I  answered.  ''And  as  far  as  that 
goes,  you  won 't  be  alone.  There  are  the  six  McG  's. ' ' 

He  got  quite  huffy  with  me  so  I  left  a  kiss  on  the  top 
of  his  curls  and  went  away. 

On  Tuesday  came  a  repentant  note  and  a  perfect  load 
of  plants.  He  knows  I  do  not  care  for  cut  flowers. 
Poor  fellow,  I  suppose  he  is  lonely  in  that  huge  barracks 
of  a  place,  with  only  a  timid,  silent  old  woman  and  a 
crew  of  old  servants. 

I  was  talking  with  ' '  Goody  Nan ' '  in  front  of  her  stall, 
day  before  yesterday,  when  the  Duchess  went  by  carry- 
ing a  basket,  and  as  she  passed  she  said  over  her  shoul- 
der,— 

' '  Martha  F.  wants  to  see  you, ' '  and  hurried  on. 

Old  Nan  said, — "Now  ain't  she  a  saint  for  certain! 
and  to  think  on !  just  to  think  on ! " 

"What?"  I  asked  quietly. 

"To  think  on  her  a-livin'  down  in  these  parts  and  a- 
workin '  for  all  these  good-f or-nothin  's,  she  as  has  a  right 
to  live  in  palaces  and  ride  in  kerridges." 

Like  a  goose,  I  said,— 

' '  Oh,  do  you  know  her,  Goody  ? ' ' 

The  old  woman  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  then  she 
turned  away  to  her  work,  saying, — 

"Just  what  we  all  knows,  Miss,  she's  too  good  for  this 
sort  of  livinV 

And  I  saw  that  I  had  spoiled  my  chance  of  hearing. 
After  I  had  thought  it  all  over  I  was  glad  after  all;  if 
our  little  Duchess  does  not  care  to  tell  us  of  herself,  we 
being  truly  her  friends  have  no  manner  of  right  to  even 
want  to  know.  I  must  not  let  my  little  code  of  ' '  friend- 
ship ethics"  get  cloudy,  that  Von 't  do,  but  when  I  told 
the  laddie  about  it,  he  was  wild  and  wanted  me  to  go 
straight  away  and  "make  Goody  tell,"  and  I  could  not 
get  him  to  see  my  amended  point  of  view. 

"Tom  Scott"  informed  me  when  I  went  to  the  office 

96 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

upon  my  return  that  he  had  commenced  night  school  and 
had  a  ' '  bully  teacher. ' '  Likewise  that  he  had  visited  the 
McG's,  seemed  to  be  more  than  ever  approving  of  Mu- 
riel A. 

As  I  was  prowling  about  an  old  book  store  one  evening 
about  six:thirty,  who  should  I  find  but  Tom,  and  when  I 
said, — 

''Well,  Tom,  and  what  are  you  doing  here?"  he 
showed  me  a  life  of  Dickens,— Foster's,— that  he  had 
just  bought  for  fifty  cents.  It  was  in  good  condition  and 
I  told  him  he  was  in  luck  and  wished  him  joy  of  his  find. 
He  left  me  there  and  the  man  in  charge  said, — 

''That's  a  keen  one,  that  boy.  I'd  like  to  get  a  boy 
like  that  for  the  shop,  do  you  think  he  'd  come,  Miss  ? ' ' 

I  said, — "Why  don't  you  ask  him  if  you  want  him; 
I  would,  and  I  hope  you  '11  get  him,  for  I  think  it  would 
be  good  for  him  to  be  in  a  place  like  this  for  awhile. ' ' 

I  told  Mr.  W.  what  I  had  done  and  he  said,  laugh- 
ing,— 

"So  you  propose  to  take  our  best  b&y  away,  do  you? 
Well  Tom  will  never  leave,  he  likes  too  well  to  be  where 
he  can  skylark  with  the  other  lads. ' ' 

I  said  nothing  further,  but  I  was  not  surprised  when 
Tom  called  on  me  the  other  evening  and  told  me  he  was 

going  to  quit  S &  Sons,  and  go  to  work  for  Mr.  J. 

I  drew  him  out  to  find  what  it  was  that  prompted  the 
desire  for  the  change,  and  discovered  that  he  wanted  to 
be  "with  all  them  old  books,  you  know,"  and  had  a  de- 
sire to  learn  what  it  was  that  made  all  of  my  kind  of 
folks  like  'em  best.  He  looked  over  my  books  approv- 
ingly and  I  explained  about  values  and  plates  and  gave 
him  an  idea  of  what  it  all  meant.  Likewise  made  his  lit- 
tle green  eyes  sparkle  when  I  told  him  the  tales  of  some 
of  the  famous  finds  that  had  been  made. 

"Hully  gee,  but  it's  great!"  he  exclaimed,  "that's  the 
biz  for  me ! ! " 


97 


CHUMS 
OCT.  IST,— 

Am  just  miserable  and  would  like  to  cry.  Mr.  W.  has 
asked  me  to  marry  him  and  was  so  dear  and  gentle  that 
I  found  it  hard  to  tell  him  how  impossible  it  was.  First, 
for  the  good  and  sufficient  reason  that  I  was  already 
supplied  with  one  able  bodied  husband.  Second,  because 
I  did  not  love  him.  It  seems  he  thought  me  a  widow,  so 
I  told  him  my  little  story  and  we  parted  good  friends, 
but  oh,  it  won't  be  the  same  again.  Something  has  gone 
out  of  the  nice  comradeship  and  something  has  come  in 
of  a  different  kind.  I  would  give  anything  to  have  seen 
what  was  coming  and  prevented  it.  Oh  dear,  I  thought 
my  day  for  attracting  that  sort  of  experience  was  over 
and  done  with.  Thank  goodness,  the  doctor  or  my  laddie 
have  no  such  thought,  so  at  least  my  two  other  male 
friends  are  still  to  be  enjoyed. 

I  think  Mr.  "W.  has  unbosomed  to  laddie  for  when  I 
saw  him  last  he  looked  at  me  in  a  different  way,  and  I 
could,  I  imagined,  see  a  sort  of  wonder  in  his  expres- 
sion. 

I  went  around  to  the  settlement  house  and  corraled 
Martha  F.  for  a  talk  and  told  her  about  my  perplexity. 
She,  too,  looked  as  though  she  wondered,  and  I  said, — 

"Now,  for  goodness 's  sake,  tell  me  what  makes  you 
have  that  expression,  Martha,  it 's  like  the  laddie 's  ? " 

She  laughed  and  said, — 

' '  Why,  my  dear,  I  was  only  surprised  at  your  surprise. 
All  of  us  have  seen  how  the  land  lay  with  our  kind  Mr. 
W.,  for  a  long  time." 

I  was  speechless.    Then  I  was  properly  mad. 

"Well  I  think,  that  being  the  case,  you  might,  some  of 
you,  have  been  good  enough  to  have  told  me  so  I  could 
have  prevented  it. ' ' 

"But,  girlie,  we  thought  you  were  content  for  it  to  be 
so  and  would  marry  him. ' ' 

That  reduced  me  to  silence  for  a  moment.    Only  a  mo- 

98 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

ment  though,  and  when  I  left,  Martha  had  a  very  clear 
impression  of  just  what  I  did  feel  and  that  my  life  held 
no  room  for  that  particular  brand  of  sentiment.  She, 
also,  had  thought  me  a  widow.  Goodness,  I  must  wear  a 
placard  saying :  ' '  Owing  to  incompatibility  of  temper,  I 
and  my  husband  have  agreed  to  disagree,  but  out  of  a 
vast  fund  of  mulishness  he  will  not  give  me  a  divorce, 
said  mulishness  being  one  of  his  good  qualities;  his  bad 
ones  you  are  free  to  judge  by  that." 

It 's  hateful !  I  wish  I  were  a  man  or  ugly  and  dowdy. 
No,  even  those  last  two  things  do  not  save  one  from  the 
tender  passion. 

"Tom  Scott"  is  installed  in  the  book-stall,  and  is  so 
happy  that  he  wears  a  deep  frown  to  hide  the  fact. 
Likewise  has  adopted  a  sort  of  uniform  of  his  own  inven- 
tion, being  a  cross  between  a  grocer's  clerk  and  the  artist 
of  the  funny  papers.  Is  letting  his  hair  grow,  wears  a 
soft  shirt  and  a  big  soft  tie  whose  flowing  ends  afford 
him  a  vast  amount  of  pleasure.  The  woven  straw  sleeve 
protectors  and  large  black  apron  complete  the  remark- 
able "ensemble." 

Nov.  GTH,— 

This  has  been  a  time  of  stress,  but  very  pleasant  stress 
—I  find  that  much  abused  word  is  generally  taken  to  in- 
dicate only  unpleasantness,  which  is  a  pity. 

First  on  the  list  of  good  things  is  the  announcement 
that  our  dear  Martha  F.  and  the  big  doctor  are  to  be 
married.  It  seems  that  our  doctor  has  not  been  as  blind 
as  we  all  thought  him,  and  loves  her  as  she  deserves  to 
be  loved.  They  are  to  keep  on  with  the  work,  only  fitting 
up  a  little  home  of  their  own  in  one  of  the  houses  adjoin- 
ing the  settlement. 

We,  of  course,  are  all  to  be  at  the  wedding,  which  will 
take  place  in  the  big  hall  of  the  house,  so  that  the  people 
who  know  and  love  them  both,  can  be  with  them.  The 

99 


CHUMS 

wedding  is  to  be  on  Thanksgiving  Day  and  the  simple 
ceremony  to  be  followed  by  a  wedding  breakfast,  to 
which  as  many  of  the  guests  as  can  be  accommodated, 
will  be  invited.  We  have  great  plans  afoot  for  decorat- 
ing the  big  hall  and  intend  the  event  shall  go  off  with 
great  eclat. 

Mr.  W.  and  I  have  overcome  our  little  difficulty  and 
shall  remain  the  best  of  chums  I  hope. 

Went  with  Nora  for  a  Saturday  to  Monday  visit  with 
Muriel  Anastasia,  and  it  was  a  joy  to  see  how  all  those 
blessed  "kiddies"  were  rapidly  taking  on  the  appearance 
of  being  fatted  for  a  county  fair.  The  unusual  plenty, 
simple  though  it  is,  has  done  its  work;  in  the  heart-to- 
heart  talk  we  had  the  evening  of  my  arrival,  M.  A. 
said,— 

"Oh,  Mrs. ,  if  only  poor  ma  could  see  'em,  I  should 

be  quite  happy." 

Alantha  May  is  developing  quite  a  gift  for  housekeep- 
ing in  all  of  its  branches,  and  at  odd  times  works  on  her 
needlework,  which  just  now  is  a  set  of  pajamas  for  their 
"good  sick  gentleman,"  which  she  is  doing  by  hand,  and 
which  is  a  marvel  of  fine  stitching.  Its  crowning  glory 
is  to  be  a  tiny  wreath  of  flowers  about  collar  and  cuffs, 
and  a  monogram  on  the  pocket,  and  she  expects  to  finish 
it  in  about ' '  six  more  months. ' ' 

I  carried  the  joyful  tidings  to  M.  A.  that  the  place  was 
to  be  hers  as  long  as  she  wanted  it,  for  the  old  couple 
who  went  home  have  decided  to  remain  there.  She  was 
overcome  with  joy  and  showed  me  the  next  day  how  nice 
everything  looked. 

When  I  returned,  I  told  laddie  he  ought  to  go  there 
and  see  for  himself  how  lovely  the  old  place  looked,  and 
he  said  he  would  if  we  would  all  go  along.  Since  he  has 
discovered  how  possible  it  is  to  get  about  I  find  that  the 
old  life  of  passive  acceptance  irks  him  and  I  'm  glad  of  it, 
for  with  all  his  wealth  and  gifts  for  "soshing"  as  Nora 
calls  it,  he  might  have  a  very  rich  and  full  life,  even 
though  he  cannot  but  be  hampered  by  his  poor  body. 

100 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

I  have  decided,  after  the  New  Year,  to  give  up  my 
trade  work  and  set  up  as  an  illuminator  and  de  luxe 
plate  colorer.  I  shall,  I  now  see,  be  able  to  make  at  least 
as  much  and  probably  more  and  have  the  joy  of  doing 
my  best  work. 

Nora  and  I  are  very  happy  in  our  menage  a  deux; 
we  have  arranged  to  use  her  room  for  our  studio  and 
sleeping  room  and  mine  for  all  else.  Both  are  now  so 
pretty  with  their  books  and  sketches,  old  copper  and 
brass,  not  to  mention  several  really  perfect  bits  of  china 
and  some  miniatures.  Both  of  us  have  the  undoubted 
true  collector's  "flaire"  and  when  we  have  shown  our 
finds  to  some  people  who  know,  and  told  what  we  paid 
for  them,  there  has  been  great  lifting  of  eyebrows  and  in 
one  case  an  expression  of  absolute  disbelief. 

"Tom  Scott"  came  up  to  the  studio  in  great  excite- 
ment one  evening  to  show  us  an  etching  that  he  had  seen 
in  a  rival  stall  and  got  a  friend  to  get  for  him.  And  well 
he  might  be  excited,  for  it  was  a  Hogarth— all  of  the  hall 
marks  were  there,  as  they  not  always  are,  and  it  seems 
that  the  clever  little  chap  had  recognized  it  from  having 
seen  its  facsimile  in  an  old  book  of  engravings.  That 

boy  is  going  to  be  a  wonder!  Mr.  J ,  his  "boss"  as 

he  calls  him,  says  that  he  never  saw  his  like.  Tom  goes 
regularly  to  school  and  tells  me  he  likes  it.  Already  I 
notice  a  difference  in  his  speech,  but  I  hope  he  will  not 
too  quickly  lose  his  delightful  originality  of  expression. 

Nora  has  had  the  little  niece  put  in  a  good  school  and 
gets  reports  that  please  her.  From  Claire  she  has  heard 
no  word,  but  that  is  so  on  a  par  with  the  lady's  general 
carelessness  that  it  creates  no  wonder. 

I  recently  met  the  pretty  cousin  of  Martha  Farrish, 
who  has  returned  from  her  long  honeymoon  abroad,  and 
she  is  certainly  a  most  winsome  bit  of  femininity,  tender 
and  true  hearted,  I  think,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she 
could  not  give  up  her  life  to  our  big  doctor,  but  I  hope 
she  will  keep  to  her  own  side  of  the  fence  and  not  come 
throwing  those  beautiful  big  eyes  about  on  Martha's.  I 

101 


CHUMS 

am  quite  jealous  for  Martha,  I  want  her  joy  to  have  no 
slightest  cloud  and  my  faith  in  the  male  animal's  con- 
stancy is,  to  put  it  mildly,  weak.  So  I  want  the  pretty 
Belle  English  Ferguson  person  to  keep  her  loveliness  and 
her  French  frocks  in  her  own  back  yard,  please  ma'am. 

Nora  was  very  severe  with  me  when  I  gave  expression 
to  my  feelings  on  the  subject  and  "scorned"  me,  say- 
ing,— 

"You  ought  to  know  our  doctor  better.  I  am  really 
ashamed  of  you,  Dimples. ' '  (That's  her  name  for  me  be- 
cause of  my  wealth  of  those  silly  things.) 

The  little  Duchess,  who  was  having  tea  with  us  at  the 
time,  laughed  and  patted  me  on  the  shoulder  cheeringly, 
and  remarked,— 

' '  Our  girl  is  a  trifle  pessimistic,  but  even  she  must  ad- 
mit that  there  is  truth  in  the  old  adage  that  every  rule 
has  its  exception.  No,  I  've  no  fear  in  the  world  that  our 
doctor  will  give  even  a  thought  to  any  amount  of  pretti- 
ness,  now  that  his  eyes  have  been  opened  to  Martha's 
beauty  of  soul  and  character ;  and  besides,  happiness  has 
performed  once  more  the  miracle  of  giving  beauty  to  a 
woman  who  before  had  been  plain.  Did  you  not  notice 
how  lovely  her  face  had  become?" 

"Yes,  I  had  noticed  a  change,  a  great  change,  but 
still  I  wanted  the  pretty  Belle  kept  away ' ' ;  upon  which 
declaration  the  Duchess  smiled  and  Nora  frowned. 

I  don't  know  what  has  got  into  me  lately,  but  the  spirit 
of  matchmaking  is  having  its  way  with  me,  and  noticing 
the  growing  chumminess  of  my  laddie  and  Nora,  the 
thought  has  come  to  me  that  here  is  a  case  where  two  peo- 
ple, by  nature  forced  most  cruelly  to  keep  aloof  from 
mating  on  the  physical  plane,  still  are  so  congenial  and 
both  so  truly  beautiful  in  character,  that  an  ideal  union 
on  the  mental  plane  might  be  effected.  I  said  so  to  Mr. 
"W.  in  one  of  our  recent  talks,  but  he  seemed  so  visibly 
shocked  by  it  that  I  felt  I  had  been  guilty  of  a  great  in- 
delicacy, for  which  feeling  I  don't  thank  him  and  shall 

102 


AN    EXPERIMENT    IN    ECONOMICS 

tell  him  so  some  day.  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  the  much 
vaunted  trait  termed  "fitting  reserve."  I  like  to  know 
always  where  I  stand  in  my  small  world  and  frequently 
bring  down  upon  myself  the  wrath  of  the  gods ! 

Nov.  29TH,— 

The  wedding  is  an  accomplished  fact,  and  everything 
went  most  beautifully.  I  cried  until  my  nose  was  red 
and  my  head  ached,  but  every  one  was  so  interested  in 
the  bride  that  no  one  noticed  it. 

Martha  never  looked  so  well  in  her  life.  She  had  chos- 
en a  simple  white  silk  of  some  soft  kind,  and  her  really 
magnificent  hair  was  done  becomingly.  Her  dear  face 
was  truly  beautiful  in  its  expression  of  happiness  and  I 
could  not  but  feel  that  if  ever  a  man  had  chosen  wisely 
and  well  it  was  our  doctor. 

We  made  the  hall  a  perfect  bower  and  the  great  bell 
of  chrysanthemums  was  a  triumph. 

Martha's  uncle,  Belle's  father,  came,  also  Belle  and 
her  husband.  The  doctor's  father  had  a  convenient  at- 
tack of  gout  and  did  not.  Every  last,  living  soul  in  the 
neighborhood  who  could  by  hook  or  crook  squeeze  in, 
came. 

The  presents  ranged  from  a  check  for  five  thousand 
dollars  to  a  pair  of  guinea  pigs,  and  after  the  ceremony 
we  sat  down,  a  hundred  strong,  to  the  wedding  breakfast. 

At  two  the  bridal  couple  slipped  away  and  we  others 
left  in  charge  kept  the  festivities  going  until  five,  when 
the  last  well  stuffed  straggler  took  her  departure  and 
silence  fell  upon  the  place. 

Our  happy  pair  went  for  a  short  trip  to  Bermuda,  and 
when  they  return  will  take  up  the  work  again. 

"Tom  Scott"  escorted  us  home  and  confided  the  fact 
that  when  he  and  Muriel  Anastasia  stood  up  he  intended 
the  event  to  take  place  at  the  settlement  house. 


103 


CHUMS 
DEC.  15TH,— 

It  has  been  decided  that  laddie  give  a  house  party  at 
the  "Great  House"  for  the  Christmas  week,  and  I  get 
hints  of  great  preparations  on  foot. 

The  other  day  when  I  had  gone  up  to  take  back  some 
finished  plates,  I  found  the  laddie  queerly  silent.  Usual- 
ly he  is  as  talkative  as  a  woman  with  me,  and  thinking 
him  in  one  of  his  very  rare  moods  of  depression  I  was 
intending  to  get  away  quickly,  when  he  said, — 

"Mrs.  Dimples,  I  want  awfully  to  tell  you  something 
for  I  am  in  a  state  of  indecision  and  want  to  be  helped. ' ' 

"Talk  away,  laddie,"  I  said,  laying  aside  my  wrap 
and  gloves,  and  then  followed  the  most  wonderful  half- 
hour  that  I  have  ever  known.  It  seems  that  I  was  not  so 
crazy  as  Mr.  W.  thinks,  for  the  boy  is  deeply  in  love  with 
my  Nora  and  is  only  fearful  of  telling  her  as  he  cannot 
imagine  that  any  woman  can  love  him!  Oh!  beautiful 
wonder  of  a  great  love!  There  was  no  thought  in  his 
mind  of  Nora 's  maimed  body,  no  thought  that  he,  having 
what  he  has,  is  therefore  a  great  catch  for  any  daughter 
of  an  ambitious  mamma,  and  that  such  a  life  as  he  can 
give  a  woman, — ease  and  luxury  and  the  thousand  de- 
lights wealth  can  procure, — would  be  a  temptation  to 
many  a  worldly  minded  one,  and  doubly,  trebly  so  to  a 
poor  struggler  in  the  world's  great  vortex.  To  him,  the 
fact  of  his  afflicted  body  puts  any  natural  advantages  he 
possesses  so  in  the  shade,  that  I  truly  believe  the  dear 
boy  will  only  feel  that  he  is  the  recipient  in  such  a  com- 
panionship. 

I  was  so  glad  that  I  told  him  I,  too,  had  thought  of  it, 
and  my  matter-of-course  acceptance  of  the  thing  gave 
him  the  necessary  courage  when  Nora  came  in  shortly 
after.  I  slipped  away  and  left  the  two  dear  things  to 
themselves. 

My  little  Nora  came  to  my  room  on  her  return  and  in 
her  lovely  tender  fashion  told  me  that  laddie  had  asked 
her  to  be  his  wife  and  that  as  there  was  no  reason  for 

104 


their  waiting  long  they  were  to  be  married  on  Christmas 
Day  at  the  "Great  House"  and  remain  there  awhile. 

I  hugged  her  delightedly,  and  she,  when  I  taxed  her 
with  it,  admitted  that  she  had  loved  him  almost  from 
their  first  meeting,  but  of  course  had  never  dared  hope 
that  he  would  or  could  love  her  with  her  twisted  body 
and  her  limp.  Never  a  word  of  his  crippled  condition  or 
his  great  wealth,  and  I  am  certain  that  not  a  thought  of 
the  latter  had  come  to  her.  It  is  a  clear  case  of  two  souls 
that  recognized  their  affinity,  bless  them  both ! 

When  I  saw  Mr.  W.  and  told  him,  he  was  distressed 
and  I  did  not  leave  until  I  had  brought  him  around  to 
my  way  of  thinking  and  made  him  properly  apologetic 
for  the  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  he  had  given  me,  during 
the  talk  we  had  had  on  the  subject  before. 

DEC.  31sT,— 

Am  back  in  my  quarters,  feeling  pretty  lonely,  for  my 
Nora  is  no  longer  here. 

The  house-party  was  very  successful  and  everyone  had 
a  glorious  time.  Mr.  W.  gets  about  on  crutches  now  and 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  time  with  as  much  vim  as 
the-  rest  of  us. 

The  big  house  was,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  filled  with 
people.  Every  room  had  its  occupant  and  every  chim- 
ney sent  out  its  long  smoke  plumes.  Laddie's  old  ser- 
vants took  charge  for  the  time  and  things  were  made  so 
comfortable  and  pleasant  for  us  all  that  it  was  hard  to 
leave. 

The  weather  came  nobly  to  the  aid  of  the  Christmas 
sports  and  there  was  snow  and  heaps  of  it.  All  of  us 
that  could  get  about  put  on  warm  hoods  and  wraps  and 
gloves  and  we  made  snow  figures  and  forts,  played  games 
and  went  for  sleigh-rides,  and  evenings  gathered  around 
the  big  fire-place  and  told  stories,  popped  corn,  roasted 
chestnuts  on  hot  shovels,  baked  apples  and  were  for  the 
nonce  boys  and  girls  again. 

105 


CHUMS 

On  Christmas  Day  our  two  dear  ones  were  married 
and  this  time  I  kept  from  crying,  feeling  that  no  slightest 
sign  should  be  given  that  this  was  any  more  solemn  an 
occasion  than  similar  ones  are,  and  after  the  ceremony 
was  over  we  had  a  Christmas  dinner  that  was  a  marvel. 

My  heart  went  out  to  the  old  servants,  who  had  entered 
into  the  joy  of  their  dearly  beloved  young  master  so  en- 
tirely that  they  welcomed  their  new  mistress  as  though 
she  had  been  the  bride  they  themselves  would  have  chos- 
en for  him. 

Nora,  always  beautiful  in  face,  was  so  exquisite  in  her 
joy,  and  the  creamy  lace  of  her  gown  so  concealed  her 
deformity,  that  she  was  a  lovely  picture,  and  the  laddie 
did  not  take  his  glad  eyes  off  her  all  the  day. 

Muriel  Anastasia  won  the  servants  by  her  graceful  ac- 
ceptance of  their  help ;  and  Molly,  the  cook,  told  me  that 
"sure  the  child  was  a  wonder  entoireJy,  and  as  fore- 
thoughted  and  capable  as  any  woman,  and  a  deal  more 
than  most." 

As  even  the  most  charming  of  house-parties  must  end, 
this  did  on  the  twenty-ninth,  and  Mr.  Warren,  "Tom 
Scott"  and  I  traveled  back  together,  a  little  subdued  and 
quiet  after  all  of  the  busy  days.  I  came  up  to  my  den 
struggling  hard  not  to  give  way  to  my  depression,  and 
found  the  dear  little  Duchess  awaiting  me;  knowing  it 
would  be  a  lonely  home-coming  she  had  thought  to  be 
here  to  welcome  me.  She  had  Martha  at  a  white  heat  of 
expectancy  and  a  nice  little  dinner  ready.  His  Majesty 
arched  his  back  and  purred  with  gladness. 

The  Torelli's  had  left  many  little  love  gifts  and  so  I 
could  not  but  feel  myself  a  fortunate  woman,  and  loving 
both  Nora  and  the  laddie  dearly,  I  must  perforce  be  glad 
in  their  happiness. 

Now,  it  is  good  bye  my  diary.  I  have  not  always  been 
faithful  to  you  in  the  past,  but  I  promise  to  be  in  the 
future  and  on  this  last  night  of  the  old  year  I  will  put  a 
kiss  on  your  nice  old  familiar  face  and  wish  you  the  best 
of  luck. 

106 


A  Cross  Section  of  Life 

PART  I. 


EIL,  what  did  he  say  ? ' '  she  asked  anxious- 
ly. 

The  big  fellow  looked  at  her  a  moment 
— silently: — 

"Arizona  or  Southern  California — and 
—immediately." 

"So  bad  as  that!    Oh  no,  dear,  it  can't 
be,  oh,  it  can't  be!" 
He  put  his  arm  about  the  slight  figure  and  drew  her 
towards  him. 

"Yes,  dear,  it  evidently  is,  and  I  have  been  sitting  in 
the  park  an  hour  or  so,  before  I  came  home,  trying  to  get 
over  the  worst  of  the  shock.  I  think  I  have  and  I  don't 
intend  to  give  'way  or  give  up  as  long  as  there's  a  fight- 
ing chance,  and  that  is  what  Doctor  Atkins  says  I  have. 
Now,  sweetheart,  help  me.  You  are  such  a  blessed  wom- 
an-girl that  if  you  will  be  your  own  courageous  self,  we 
will  take  this  hydra-headed  monster  by  the  throat  and 
throttle  him." 

She  shivered  all  over  for  a  moment,  then  lifting  brave 
eyes,  tearful  but  determined,  to  the  gaunt,  hollow- 
cheeked  face  above  her,  said  a  bit  tremulously. — 

"Brave  I'll  be,  Neil,  and  thankful  there's  the  fighting 
chance.  How  soon  must  we  go— or  can  we  go?" 

"Come  over  to  the  sofa,  we'll  get  it  all  mapped  out,  I 
am  as  weak  as  a  rat. ' ' 

"Lie  down,  dear,  I'll  sit  by  you.  After  such  a  long, 
hard  pull  as  you  have  had  these  six  weeks,  no  wonder  you 
are  weak.  Here,  let  me  throw  this  cover  over  your  feet 
and  tuck  another  pillow  under  your  head." 

She  established  herself  by  his  side  on  a  low  chair,  and 
taking  one  of  the  big,  white,  thin  hands,  said, — 

107 


CHUMS 

"  Just  wait  for  another  six  months,  until  southern  suns 
and  winds  have  done  their  work  and  these  big  'pads'  will 
look  natural  again." 

He  smiled  into  the  face  near  his,  saying, — 

"Do  you  know,  Dot,  that  if  it  were  not  for  the  neces- 
sity of  dragging  you  so  far  from  here,  I  should  not  be 
half  sorry  about  going,  but  when  I  think  how  terribly 
straitened  we  shall  be  as  to  money,  if  I  must  give  up  my 
position  here  and  we  must  be  dependent  upon  that  tiny, 
(with  a  groan)  that  microscopic  bank  account,  I  just  get 
scared  all  over. ' ' 

' '  Well,  you  need  not  be,  Neil.  What  we  have  will  keep 
us  going  for  long  after  that  poor  sick  lung  is  all  right 
again,  and  you  know  we  both  love  the  camping-out  prop- 
osition. Let's  just  fancy  that  is  what  it's  going  to  be. 
Then  we  won't  even  think  of  the  superfluities  left  be- 
hind. As  for  feeling  badly  because  you  will  have  to 
take  me  so  far  away  from  home,  as  you  call  it,  don't  you 
know — you  ought  to  by  this — that  wherever  you  are 
spells  home  to  me? 

Sometime,  ages  from  now,  when  you  have  become  a 
famous  horticulturist,  for  of  course  that 's  what  you  '11  be 
—Oh,  I  know  how  your  very  soul  has  longed  for  your 
favorite  work,  and  how  you  have  hated  the  office  and  its 
confinement; — well,  some  day  we  will  come  back  here  for 
a  trip  and  we  shall  have  been  children  of  nature  so  long 
that  we  shall  be  filled  with  wonder  to  think  we  ever  en- 
dured it. 

I  believe  you  would  have  been,  long  ago,  a  cow  punch- 
er, or  a  miner,  or  something  of  that  sort,  if  you  had 
not  met  me,  and  eventually  would  have  had  great  herds 
of  cattle,  or  have  discovered  some  big  mine. 

Why  I  have  laughed  to  myself  dozens  of  times  to  see 
how  you  hated  the  restraint  and  the  narrowness  of  city 
life;  poor  old  fellow,  if  I  had  not  been  such  a  selfish 
thing  you  might  not  have  had  it,  either.  But  I  had  to 
wait  until  you  nearly  died  before  I  could  get  it  through 

108 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

my  stupid  head  that  it  was  not  New  York,  or  family,  or 
friends,  or  in  fact  anything  in  life  that  counted,  but  just 
you. 

So  we  will  go  on  our  tramping  trip  and  when  we  see 
some  place  that  our  hearts  go  out  to,  we  will  buy  a  few 
acres,  put  up  a  shack,  send  for  our  treasures  and  settle 
there. 

You  can  plant  and  dig  and  fuss  to  your  heart's  con- 
tent and  I  will  be  your  admiring  audience.  Incidentally, 
I  will  bring  into  play  my  housekeeping  abilities,  those 
poor  atrophied  gifts,  and  we'll  be  as  happy  as  the  day  is 
long. 

No  more  dress-clothes  for  you.  No  theatres,  no  any  of 
the  things  your  soul  loathes.  I  will  let  you  go  about  in 
those  dear  old  Adirondack  togs  of  yours,  with  soft  shirts, 
and  not  a  suspicion  of  a  collar,  and  if  you  must  you  shall 
kick  off  your  shoes  and  go  about  in  your  stocking-feet. 
No  more  can  mortal  wife  promise. ' ' 

The  big  man  laughed  heartily  at  her  chatter ;  so  heart- 
ily that  the  ugly  cough  that  followed  tore  and  rent  him, 
leaving  him  faint,  white  and  utterly  spent. 

After  Dot  had  ministered  to  him  and  he  was  once 
more  comfortable  and  she  saw  that  he  might  doze,  she 
pulled  down  the  shades  and  stole  out  of  the  room.  Go- 
ing to  her  bedroom,  she  pillowed  her  head  on  the  bed 
and  cried  for  awhile,  then  got  up  and,  bathing  her  eyes 
and  re-arranging  her  hair,  went  into  the  kitche'n,  where 
she  held  a  long  talk  with  Mary,  the  servant;  then  wrote 
a  note  which  she  dispatched  by  a  messenger,  and  when 
it  was  shortly  answered  in  person  by  her  brother,  she 
told  him  what  had  occurred  and  of  the  necessity  for  their 
getting  away  as  soon  as  possible. 

"Dick,  we  shall  have  to  be  awfully  careful  about  the 
expenditures,  for  we  have  very  little  put  by, ' '  and  as  he 
started  to  speak,  she  said, — "I  know  what  you  are  going 
to  say,  dear,  but  I  won't  let  you  do  it.  We  can  get  on 
very  well,  with  care,  and  you  have  your  own  burdens 

109 


CHUMS 

and  must  not  carry  any  of  ours.  Anyway,  as  yet  there 
is  no  need.  You  can  be  of  tremendous  help  in  other 
ways,  though.  Break  the  news  to  mother  and  the  girls 
and  pack  up  our  traps  for  us.  Get  rid  of  this  apartment. 
I  think  the  Welands  would  be  glad  to  sub-let  it  and  rent 
the  furniture  or  buy  it — that  would  be  best,  for  I  never 
did  like  the  pretentious  stuff,"  looking  disapprovingly 
about  at  the  handsome,  showy  things.  "Our  books  and 
pictures  and  pretties,  box  and  store.  When  we  settle 
where  we  can  have  them,  I  will  send  for  them.  For 
awhile  we  will  just  be  gypsies." 

Her  brother  looked  at  her  curiously.  She  had  always 
been  one  of  the  soft,  dimpled  girls,  who  had,  from  baby- 
hood, been  shielded  and  coddled ;  and  this  show  of  cour- 
age and  determination,  of  practical  ability,  came  to  him 
as  a  surprise.  As  his  life,  most  of  it,  had  been  spent  far 
from  her,  he  had  never  learned  what  character  and 
strength  lay  underneath  the  soft  exterior. 

She  smiled  a  little  sadly  as  she  saw  the  look  in  his 
eyes,— 

"Oh,  the  girl  Dot  has  grown  into  the  woman  and  finds 
her  woman 's  work  cut  out  for  her ;  but  don 't  think  I  am 
downhearted.  I  was,  awfully,  but  I've  got  over  it  and 
that  great,  blessed  fellow  in  there,  who's  as  weak  as  a 
baby  now,  is  going  to  get  back  his  strength  and  health, 
please  God,  but  until  he  does  I  must  take  the  burden  of 
decisions  and  arrangements  off  those  huge  shoulders. 
So,  like  a  good  fellow,  fix  it  up  with  all  of  the  dear  ones, 
and  make  them  understand  that  there  is  to  be  no  show  of 
emotion. 

I  am  only  going  across  the  continent, — people  do  that 
in  our  day  as  a  pleasant  little  break  in  a  winter's  mon- 
otony,—and  for  goodness'  sake  don't  let  them  come  to 
see  us  off.  Mother  will  have  hysterics  and  the  girls  will 
weep  and  Neil  will  be  made  to  feel  like  a  thief  and  a 
murderer  for  allowing  himself  to  get  ill  and  being  obliged 
to  go,  let  alone  the  enormity  of  taking  me  along. 

110 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

I  think  they  would  quite  cheerfully  see  the  dear  fel- 
low start  for  any  old  place,  if  he  would  only  leave  me 
behind.  They  have  never  quite  given  up  feeling  what 
they  think  was  his  presumption  in  marrying  me.  They 
don't  lay  it  up  against  me,  strange  to  say,  but  they  al- 
ways act  as  though  they  thought  he  had  hypnotized  me 
or  something  like  that.  It  used  to  make  me  frantic,  but 
I'm  over  that  now,  what's  the  use?" 

Her  brother  laughed  and  looked  as  though  he  quite 
understood. 

' '  Thanks  be,  Dick,  you  did  not  fail  to  understand,  did 
you,  why  I  loved  Neil  and  married  him,  though  he  was 
only  a  clerk  in  an  insurance  company?— which  in  moth- 
er's eyes  seems  about  on  a  par  with  being  a  day  laborer, 
apparently.  There  have  been  times  when  I  could  have 
shaken  them  all,  literally  and  figuratively,  the  times 
when  mother  has  been  very  much  'Grande  Dame'  and 
the  girls,  'Princesses  Royal';  and  Neil  has  been  so  dear 
about  it,  he  is  so  big  souled  and  big  brained  that  he  does 
not  even  see  the  smallnesses  of  others.  But  you've  been 
an  understanding  dear,  and  I  just  love  you  for  it,"  and 
she  reached  up  to  kiss  him. 

"What  a  dot  of  a  girl  you  are,"  he  said,  as  he  leaned 
over  to  kiss  her  upturned  face. 

' '  I  'm  not,  really,  Dick,  it 's  only  that  all  you  people  be- 
long to  a  race  of  giants.  I'm  about  average  height." 
And  as  she  saw  his  amused  face,  she  said, — 

"Well,  I  notice  all  of  you  big  men  capitulate  to  the 
midgets;  there's  your  own  wife,  she's  about  the  size  of 
the  proverbial  pint  of  cider,  and  cannot  take  your  arm 
without  nearly  dislocating  your  shoulder.  Dick,  I  know 
you  are  very  busy  and  it  will  be  hard  to  find  time,  but  I 
want  you  to  promise  to  write  to  Neil  sometimes,  tell  him 
all  of  the  city  news,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  for  he  thinks 
you're  the  'best  ever,'  and  I  don't  want  him  to  feel  that 
all  of  my  family  are  brutes. 

Now  I  must  run  and  see  how  he  is.     Don't  come  in 

111 


CHUMS 

now,  but  tomorrow,  when  you  have  seen  the  Welands  and 
done  some  of  the  other  half  hundred  commissions,  come 
in  and  let  us  know  how  things  are  going. 

I  want  to  get  away  by  Monday,  that  leaves  four  days. 
Neil  must  not  risk  another  relapse.  Good  bye,  dear  old 
boy,  and  a  thousand  thanks  in  advance. ' ' 


One  sunny  day,  six  months  later,  Dot  stood  on  the  plat- 
form which  served  as  veranda  to  the  tent,  and  shading 
her  eyes  with  her  hand,  looked  down  the  hill  to  the  beach, 
where  the  waves  rolled  in  lazily;  the  air  was  soft  and  a 
slight  breeze  was  filled  with  the  smell  of  the  sea. 

Presently  she  saw  her  husband  coming  up  the  road 
which  wound  around  the  hillside,  and  her  sweet  face 
lighted  as  in  answer  to  his  hail  she  ran  down  the  path 
to  meet  him. 

His  great  frame  was  now  comfortably  covered,  the  face 
had  lost  its  hollowness  and  had  taken  on  a  look  of  health ; 
there  was  still  a  suggestion  of  delicacy,  but  the  tones 
were  not  the  grayish  ones  of  six  months  before;  there 
was  a  good  red  tan  that  told  of  life  in  the  open. 

He  made  a  pretense  of  being  unable  to  further  carry 
the  bundle  of  mail  and  she  relieved  him  of  it,  laughing 
merrily. 

"Bad  boy  that  you  are,"  she  said,  "wanting  to  go  on 
being  petted  and  helped,  when  you  could  pick  me  up 
bodily  and  carry  me  to  the  top. — Oh,  but  there's  a  heap 
of  mail,  though,"  as  she  peeped  into  the  canvas  sack. 
"And  did  you  get  the  butter  and  the  tapioca?  No  sir, 
you  forgot.  Well,  but  you  got  those  blessed  seeds,  I 
see, ' '  holding  out  a  package  accusingly. 

"By  Jove!  so  I  did  forget,"  he  answered,  "I  will  just 
run  along  back  and  dig  up  that  butter  and  glue." 

"No,  you  won't,"  she  said,  clutching  his  sleeve,  "you 
will  come  home,  and  as  a  punishment,  watch  me  eat  the 
last  bit  of  butter  on  the  hot  biscuits,  whilst  you  go  but- 

112 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

terless."  And  as  he  looked  thoroughly  repentant,  she 
said, — 

"  There  is  enough  for  tonight,  dear,  and  tomorrow 
you  can  get  it  when  you  go  down  for  the  other  things. ' ' 

They  had  built  a  shed  at  one  side  of  the  tent  and  put 
wire  netting  around  two  sides  of  it,  which  gave  them  an 
out-of-doors  dining  room  and  kitchen ;  and  sitting  at  the 
small  table  they  could  look  out  towards  the  sea  and  watch 
the  sunsets,  which  they  never  tired  of  doing. 

The  small  place  was  fresh  and  dainty,  the  walls  paint- 
ed green,  the  floor  tan,  the  various  cooking  utensils  hung 
in  a  cupboard,  behind  a  curtain.  A  few  shelves  held  the 
little  stock  of  china,  of  pretty,  fanciful  Japanese  designs ; 
baskets  of  ferns  and  trailing  plants  were  suspended  from 
the  ceilings.  The  small  sheet-iron  wood-stove  stood  in  a 
nook  of  its  own,  where  the  air  circulated  freely;  there 
was  a  tiny  cave-like  cellar  dug  into  the  hillside,  back  of 
the  tent,  which  kept  their  food  cool  and  fresh. 

At  the  back  of  the  tent  was  a  bath-room  formed  by  a 
roof  and  sides  of  tea-box  matting,  wherein  was  a  large 
zinc  tub  and  a  shower.  And  all  about  the  tent  and  its 
two  sheds,  were  planted  nasturtiums  and  sweet  peas, 
whilst  long  rows  of  boxes  held  plants  in  various  stages 
of  growth. 

The  tent  was  a  large  Tucker  tent,  whose  double  roof, 
low  side-ventilators,  and  two  front  opening  flaps  gave 
the  maximum  of  air  and  the  minimum  of  discomfort 
from  the  sun's  heat. 

It  had  green  matting  rugs  on  its  board  floor ;  two  camp 
beds;  several  packing  cases  converted  into  chiffoniers 
and  toilet  tables,  by  a  deft  adjustment  of  shelves  and 
curtains;  and  on  the  canvas  walls  were  pinned  many 
sketches.  A  long,  low  set  of  shelves  held  books  and  mag- 
azines, and  a  folding  table  had  become  a  writing-desk. 

There  was  an  air  of  comfort  and  prettiness  over  all. 

"Hungry,  Neil  dear?" 

"Famished,  Dotkins,— some  goodies?" 

113 


CHUMS 

"Yes,  are  you  ready?" 

"Bet  I  am," 

— and  the  big  man  came  into  the  dining  room  and  took 
his  seat  at  the  table,  whilst  Dot  stuck  an  interrogative 
broom  straw  into  the  biscuit. 

"Just  mix  the  salad,  that's  a  dear,  whilst  I  dish  up," 
she  said.  "I  nearly  came  to  grief  with  my  ragout,  for 
it  stuck,  whilst  I  ran  down  to  meet  you,  but  I  don't  think 
it  will  taste  scorched,"  sniffing  inquiringly,  "but  most  of 
that  heavenly  macaroni  is  at  the  bottom,  and  I  dare  not 
scrape  it  off.  Oh,  well,  there's  plenty  without  it,  but  I 
won't  ever  leave  anything  without  an  asbestos  ring  under 
it  again.  Never  saw  such  a  stove,  four  small  pieces  of 
kindling,  two  shavings,  and  a  pinch  of  excelsior  create 
a  conflagration.  I  often  think  of  that  expensive,  heavy 
range,  with  all  its  shiny  nickel  trimmings,  back  in  the 
flat,  and  its  fits  of  the  sulks;  and  here  is  this  blessed 
three-dollar-and-a-half  baby  of  a  stove,  that  cooks  to  per- 
fection, and  any  time  it  does  not  it's  my  own  fault,  as 
today. 

Want  some  tea,  or  milk,  Neil?" 

"Think  I'll  have  tea,  as  I  missed  it  this  afternoon. 
Did  you  have  any  callers?" 

Dot  laughed.  "Yes,  three— the  Voogans  and  Miss  All- 
mish.  I  made  tea  for  them  and  gave  them  some  of  your 
cookies.  The  V's  I  can  feel  it  in  my  heart  to  be  grateful 
for,  but  Miss  Allmish  does  get  on  my  nerves." 

"What  was  it  today?" 

"Oh,  the  same  old  thing,  tales  of  past  grandeur  and 
detailed  accounts  of  the  lives  of  rich  aunts  in  Washing- 
ton. Poor  thing,  I  wish  I  could  tell  her  how  to  go  about 
it  to  forget  the  past  grandeur  and  make  the  most  of  the 
present  limitations. 

Speaking  of  the  present,  Neil,  Mrs.  V.  says  she  thinks 
old  Malcolm  would  sell  us  that  twelve  acres  on  the  top 
and  the  other  slope.  Now  his  son's  dead,  he's  thinking 
of  going  back  to  Massachusetts. ' ' 

114 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

She  looked  over  at  him  as  she  spoke. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  openly  accepted  the 
fact  of  the  possibility  of  their  settling  and  he  answered 
the  look  with  the  remark, — 

"So-o,  the  wind  sets  that  way.  Good  girlie!  it's  just 
what  I'd  like.  Some  way  all  of  the  places  inland  don't 
quite  fill  the  bill,  do  they,  now  we  have  come  to  feel  the 
sense  of  appropriation  in  this  big  old  waterscape?" 

"Yes,  that's  it,  Neil,"  she  said  eagerly,  "and  you 
have  made  more  improvement  here  in  two  months  than 
you  did  in  the  first  four  at  the  other  places.  There's  a 
something  tonic  in  the  air  and  if  we  can  get  the  Mal- 
colm place,  you  will  have  plenty  of  air  and  sun,  and  land 
to  work,  anyway  enough  land  for  awhile.  The  house  is 
only  a  ramshackle  affair  and  if  we  take  it,  let's  pull  it 
down  and  rebuild  it.  There's  enough  timber  to  make  a 
duck  of  a  little  place,  and  we  can  send  for  our  traps. 
Oh,  it  will  be  jolly!" 

' '  Yes,  it  will  that,  and  yet  we  must  go  slow,  honey,  we 
have  such  a  bit  left. ' ' 

"Well,  we  don't  need  but  a  'bit,'  as  you  call  it.  We 
can  pay  for  the  place  and  rebuild  the  house,  you  can  do 
most  of  that  yourself.  Mrs.  M.  says  that  the  vegetable 
garden  has  always  given  the  family  enough  for  them- 
selves, and  some  to  sell  to  the  summer  folks. ' ' 

' '  Goodness,  Dot,  you  don 't  intend  to  set  up  as  a  truck 
farmer,  do  you  ? ' ' 

"No,"  she  laughed,  "but  I  should  not  mind  earning 
a  few  extra  dollars,  if  we  had  the  things  to  sell.  Oh, 
I  have  not  any  of  that  particular  kind  of  pride. ' ' 

"No,  you  bet  you  have  not,  bless  you,"  he  returned, 
squeezing  the  plump  little  hand  that  passed  him  his  tea 
cup.  "Well,  after  supper  we  will  get  down  to  figures 
and  see  what  can  be  managed. ' ' 

He  helped  her  clear  away  the  dishes,  and  then  they 
took  paper  and  pencil  and  after  much  figuring,  he  said, — 

"Dot,  if  we  buy  this  place  at  his  price  and  allow  for 

115 


CHUMS 

the  expense  of  rebuilding  the  shack  and  the  cost  of 
bringing  out  the  traps  from  home  we  shall  have  only  four 
hundred  dollars  left  in  the  world. 

Now  if  my  idea  about  the  carnations  is  all  right,  and 
I  believe  it  is,  well  and  good;  if  not,  we  shall  be  most 
properly  '  up  against  it. '  ' 

"No,  we  sha'n't.  Even  suppose  your  idea  of  the  car- 
nation farm  not  good,  we  could  always  sell  the  land  for 
something,  and  anyway  it  would  give  us  our  living,  so  I 
think  that  is  not  much  to  risk. 

One  of  these  fine  days  Santa  Monica  is  going  to  be  the 
most  popular  place  anywhere  about,  and  this  hill  with  its 
view  and  its  accessibility  to  the  beach  and  the  electrics, 
will  be  wanted  by  some  one  with  an  eye  for  beauty.  Oh, 
I  know  this  is  supposed  to  be  the  very  unfashionable 
part,  given  up  to  people  who  have  to  count  the  cost  of 
living,  more  or  less,  but  as  these  same  people  are  in  the 
majority  in  life  everywhere  and  have  elected  to  find 
South  Santa  Monica  their  very  own,  it's  bound  to  grow. 
I  'm  not  afraid,  Neil. ' ' 

"No,  I'm  not  either,  Dot,  or  I  should  not  be  a  trifle 
later,  when  I  feel  quite  all  right;  but  I'm  so  nearly  that, 
I  fancy  I  may  be  safe  in  taking  this  responsibility.  Of 
course  if  you  were  not  such  a  small  wonder  in  the  domes- 
tic economy  line  I  would  not  dare.  How  much  has  it  cost 
us  for  the  two  months  we  have  been  here  ? ' ' 

' '  For  food,  twenty-nine  dollars  and  twenty  cents, ' '  she 
answered. 

"Ye  gods !  and  we've  lived  like  fighting  cocks !  How  on 
earth  did  you  do  it  ? " 

' '  It  was  not  difficult.  Just  never  wasted  a  crumb,  and 
used  some  brains  and  judgment.  Necessities  don't  cost 
much  Neil,  it's  the  luxuries  that  cost." 

He  whistled  softly,— "Twenty-nine  dollars  and  twen- 
ty cents !  And  to  think  of  all  the  poor  beggars  of  clerks, 
working  away  in  stuffy  offices  all  of  the  years  of  their 
lives,  to  pay  for  some  fool  gimcrack  flats  in  crowded  cit- 

116 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

ies,  to  pay  for  fool  clothes  for  themselves  and  families; 
to  pay  for  all  of  the  fool  city  life,  which  even  at  its 
cheapest  is  unwholesome  and  poor  and  expensive,  when 
they  might  live  out  in  this  blessed  land  of  sunshine,  dress 
comfortably  and  be  healthy  and  happy. ' ' 

"Oh,  you  delicious  old  boy,  but  you  forget,  my  dear, 
most  people  would  think  all  this,"  waving  her  hand  to- 
wards the  tent,  "not  living  at  all.  They  want  what  you 
call  the  fool  things  and  they  would  not  at  all  like  to  wear 
what  you  call  comfortable  clothes. ' ' 

"Don't  believe  it,  little  woman,  don't  believe  it.  It's 
only  that  they  don't  know." 

Dot  shook  her  head  unbelievingly. 

The  Malcolm  acres  were  bought,  the  old  house  pulled 
down,  and  from  its  sound  gray  timbers,  tinted  by  the  hot 
California  suns,  rained  on  by  the  soft  rains,  was  built  a 
small  home.  Only  three  rooms,  with  two  verandas,  one 
looking  seaward  and  used  as  living-room;  the  other 
veranda  looking  off  across  the  valley  to  the  line  of  hills 
beyond. 

The  books  and  pictures  and  pretties  came,  were  placed 
where  they  looked  their  loveliest,  and  climbing  roses, 
honeysuckle  and  heliotrope  were  planted.  Everything 
was  finished  before  the  rains,  and  the  small  place  had 
taken  on  a  look  of  hominess  already. 

The  land  was  got  ready  for  the  new  venture,  the  kitch- 
en garden  was  put  in  order  and  they  found  themselves 
with  a  much  smaller  surplus  than  they  had  thought  to. 
But  Neil's  health  was  rapidly  improving  and  both  were 
filled  with  happiness  and  hope. 

Mr.  Malcolm  had  presented  Dot  with  a  small  Alderney 
cow,  a  pretty,  soft-eyed  creature,  and,  as  Dot  said,  so 
ornamental  and  gentle  that  she  was  a  picture  to  look  at 
as  she  placidly  browsed  over  the  big  slope,  and  quickly 
grew  to  know  them,  coming  to  look  over  the  rail  at  them 
as  they  worked  in  the  garden. 

Neil  learned  to  milk  her  and  the  first  dismay  that  Dot 

117 


CHUMS 

felt  at  the  thought  of  the  extra  work  the  possession  of  the 
cow  would  bring  soon  gave  way  to  joy,  and  she  quickly 
learned  to  systematize  things,  so  that  the  additional  bur- 
den became  a  slight  one.  The  pleasure  of  having  all  of 
the  cream  and  milk  they  wanted  to  use  was  great.  Both 
she  and  Neil  were  fond  of  every  kind  of  cheese,  from  the 
smeerkase  to  cream  cheeses,  and  cared  more  for  milk 
than  for  any  other  beverage. 

There  was  little  difficulty  in  getting  rid  of  the  milk, 
after  taking  out  the  three  quarts  daily  that  one  of  their 
neighbors  wanted,  and  they  had  set  up  a  tiny  churn ;  so 
with  vegetables  from  their  own  garden,  and  milk  and 
cream,  butter  and  cheese,  they  were  very  comfortable, 
needing  to  spend  but  little  outside.  Dot  had  decided  that 
they  must  have  a  few  chickens,  enough  to  keep  them  in 
fresh  eggs.  Then,  let  come  what  might,  they  could  be 
unafraid. 

They  had  both  agreed  that  they  would  not  become 
slaves  to  their  work,  but  go  slowly  and  realize  that  there 
was  ample  time  to  joy  in  living.  They  divided  their 
time  and  their  days  so  that  at  tea-time  each  day  they 
might  be  free  to  read,  chat  and  go  for  a  walk ;  do,  in  fact, 
anything  that  they  might  want  to  do.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  they  rarely  left  the  veranda.  After  tea,  at  four, 
they  found  that  they  had  taken  all  of  the  exercise  they 
wanted  and  needed  during  the  day,  which  began  with 
the  sunrise  almost. 

This  was  a  very  happy  time  for  both  and  when  any 
anxiety  as  to  the  future  came  to  them,  they  put  it  aside. 
They  had  both  come  to  a  realization  of  what  life  meant 
to  them:— each  other,  health,  simple  living;  and  surely 
the  future  need  hold  no  terrors  for  them,  given  these. 

Dot  had  smilingly  but  firmly  intimated  that  no  one 
was  welcome  before  tea-time,  but  all  were  very  welcome 
then,  and  presently  a  little  circle  of  congenial  people  got 
into  the  habit  of  coming  up  the  hill  to  tea  and  the  few 
whose  tastes  were  different  dropped  away. 

118 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

Along  the  beach  were  rows  of  small  cottages,  mostly 
vacant  in  the  winter,  but  filled  to  the  roofs  in  summer, 
and  Dot,  who  loved  to  watch  people,  promised  herself 
great  larks  when  that  time  came,  for  both  the  V's  and 
Miss  Allmish  lived  on  the  beach  and  from  their  windows 
or  strips  of  verandas  the  crowds  could  be  viewed. 

One  day  when  Miss  Allmish  had  climbed  the  hill  and 
was  resting  on  the  veranda  and  sipping  her  tea,  she 
said,— 

"Mrs.  Amerton,  I  always  envy  you  your  sunshiny  dis- 
position and  your  outlook  on  life,  and  you  have  no  idea 
how  much  better  I  feel  when  I  have  been  with  you  awhile. 
I  wonder  if  one  can  cultivate  adaptability.  I  need  it, 
heaven  knows !  and  I  try  for  it,  but  I  do  not  seem  to  even 
approximate  it.  Between  me  and  content  is  something  I 
cannot  seem  to  break  down  or  climb  over  and  life  seems 
gray  and  not  worth  while,  most  of  the  time,  in  fact  I 
may  say  all  of  the  time,  now. ' ' 

Dot  looked  at  the  tall,  thin  figure  and  hard,  discon- 
tented face  and  wanted  to  say  several  things,  but  felt  it 
better  not  to.  She  replied  only, — 

' '  Yes,  I  do  indeed  think  one  can  cultivate  contentment, 
but  you  know  one  must  first  have  really  come  to  the  point 
of  wanting  it." 

As  she  saw  a  look  of  surprise  on  Miss  Allmish 's  face, 
she  continued, — 

"You  think  everyone  wants  to  be  contented,  don't 
you?  Well,  they  do  not,  really,  you  know.  I  have 
known  several  who  fairly  petted  and  coddled  the  discon- 
tents and  miseries  they  had  or  thought  they  had;  kept 
them  not  only  alive,  but  active  and  hard  working.  I  have 
often  been  so  amused  to  see  it.  But,  of  course,  there  are 
those  who  have  known  great  sorrow  and  loss,  who  are 
heart,  life  and  arm  empty,  who  seem  not  to  be  able  to  get 
hold  of  themselves,  poor  dears.  I  am  so  happy  myself  that 
I  hate  to  think  of  there  being  anything  but  happiness  in 
all  the  world.  And  I  believe  everyone  could  find  life 

119 


CHUMS 

worth  living,  no  matter  what  the  circumstances,  given 
health.  No,  I  won't  even  except  that,  for  when  I  was  at 
home,  I  had  a  friend  who  had  worked  for  years  and  still 
does,  for  that  matter,  among  the  very  poorest,  and  I  have 
known  of  several  cases  where  there  was  not  only  ill 
health,  but  hard  physical  suffering  at  times,  and  yet  life 
was  worth  living." 

Miss  Allmish  sighed  heavily  but  said  nothing  further. 

******** 

"What  are  you  scribbling,  honey?"  asked  Neil,  com- 
ing in  one  afternoon. 

"You  would  never  guess,  Neil,  I  was  trying  to  put 
down  what  I  could  remember  of  Theodosia's  account  of 
her  returning  to  Tremont  Street,  after  her  operation. 
Remember  how  amused  we  were  when  she  told  it  and 
acted  it?" 

' '  Yes. ' '  He  laughed.  ' '  Let 's  hear  what  you  've  made 
of  it." 

"I  have  written  it  as  nearly  as  I  could,  as  she  told  it, 
a  sort  of  soliloquy,  but  of  course  it  needs  her  clever  act- 
ting  of  it,  to  make  it  what  it  was  to  us.  Wait  for  one 
moment,  I  must  run  in  and  give  a  stir  to  that  rice  pud- 
ding before  I  forget  it.  You  light  the  lamp  under  the 
kettle,  dear,  and  by  the  time  I  Ve  spoken  my  piece,  it  will 
be  ready  for  tea. "  In  a  few  moments  she  returned  and 
took  up  the  first  sheet  of  paper,  reading, — 

"Leaving  hospital  after  operation.  Amputation  of 
left  leg  below  knee. 

Back  in  room  which  I  was  occupying  at  time  of  acci- 
dent ;  which  being  up  four  flights  of  stairs,  in  low-roofed 
attic,  had  not  been  rented,  and  good  hearted  landlady 
had  kept  my  few  belongings  until  I  could  return. 

Well,  after  I  have  caught  my  breath  a  bit,  four  flights 
with  a  new  leg,  not  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world, — I'll 
take  'count  of  stock. 

Oh,  bother,  here  comes  someone! — Yes,  come  in, — oh 
it 's  you,  Miss  Earl. 

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A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

Yes  thanks,  am  all  right  again,  that  is,  I  will  be  as  soon 
as  I  get  used  to  this  thing  (sticking  out  end  of  peg  from 
below  dress  skirt). 

Miserable,  you  should  think?  Well  no,  I'm  a  bit  weak 
yet,  but  very  thankful  it  was  only  one  leg  and  some 
bruises. 

Well,  you  can  do  something  for  me.  I  was  just  think- 
ing I  wanted  a  good  cup  of  tea,  tea  without  a  hospital 
smell  and  taste,  and  then  a  chance  to  work  out  some 
plans;  so  if  you  will  make  me  a  cup,  and  come  and  sit 
with  me  awhile,  I  shall  be  obliged. 

(She's  a  kind  soul  and  sensible,  I'll  try  some  of  my 
plans  on  her  and  see  what  she  thinks.) 

Ah,  but  this  is  good !  to  be  out  of  the  eternal  smell  of 
antiseptics  and  out  of  that  atmosphere  of  pain  and  suf- 
fering. This  little  old  room  is  a  dear,  and  what  lots  of 
possibilities  it  has,  with  its  four  dormer  windows  and  its 
big  closets. 

Had  a  lot  of  plans  for  making  it  into  a  jolly  studio 
den,  that  last  day  when  I  went  out  to  buy  some  curtains 
and  got  myself  run  over,  like  the  veriest  country  bump- 
kin that  ever  was ;  but  now,  with  one  leg  and  a  stick,  I  'm 
afraid  these  flights  of  stairs  will  be  too  much  for  me  and 
I  hate  ground  floors,  too,  in  cities,  without  I  was  lucky 
enough  to  get  a  bit  of  a  garden  attached ;  that 's  different. 

How  kind  this  world  is,  I  really  believe  Doctor  Leonard 
and  nurse  Oliphant  were  sorry  to  see  me  go,  and  if  it  had 
not  been  that  I  was  wild  to  get  away  from  the  hospital 
smells  and  sounds  I,  too,  should  have  been  sorry.  Always 
did  loathe  the  places.  That  is  probably  why  I  had  to  goto 
one.  I  find  I  generally  do  have  to  do  the  things  I  try  to 
escape,  and  yet,  what  a  Godsend  they  are,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  public  ward  is  not  exactly  like  a  private 
room,  with  all  that  that  means  of  privacy  and  comfort. 
Heigh  ho !  I  am  glad,  anyway,  that  I  had  the  courage  to 
go  into  the  ward,  for  with  the  little  money  I  have  it 
would  have  been  wanton  luxury  to  have  had  a  room. 

121 


CHUMS 

Ah,  there  you  are,  Miss  E.,  that  tea  smells  delicious. 
And  cream !  nice,  sweet,  yellow  cream !  And  what  a  jolly 
little  jug,  diamond  cut !  I  adore  squatty  jugs.  Belonged 
to  your  mother  and  her  mother  before  her  ?  I  thought  as 
much;  and  these  dear,  thin,  dented  old  spoons  with  an 
almost  obliterated  letter,  Q — no  G?  Your  grandmoth- 
er's name  was  Gaylord?  Ah!-h!  how  good  that  tastes. 
Aren't  you  going  to  have  some?  Why,  your  eyes  are  full 
of  tears,  there,  dear  woman,  there,  there— 

—So  you  missed  me  and  felt  badly  when  you 
heard,  and  now  seeing  me  with  a  peg,  upsets  you.  Now, 
that's  what  I  call  dear  of  you,  but  don't  be  unhappy,  I 
promise  you  I  'm  not.  Only  filled  with  thanksgiving  that 
it  was  a  leg,  instead  of  an  arm  or  death — for  I  love  to 
live,  just  love  to ! 

That's  right,  have  a  cup  of  tea.  I  think  I  will  have 
another  myself,  and  this  nice  thin  bread  and  butter;  how 
good  it  is.  At  the  hospital  they  cut  it  thick  and  never 
quite  butter  it  up  to  the  crusts.  Now  I  always  like  the 
butter  thick  on  the  crust. 

What  am  I  going  to  do? Go  to  my  folks?    Oh,  no! 

I  never  was  much  with  them  when  I  was  whole  and  well 
fixed  up  as  to  dollars. 

Am  I  troubled  as  to  money  and  will  I  let  you  lend  me 
some?  Bless  your  heart;  no,  to  both  questions.  I  had 
just  lost  through  another  "  country  cousin  "  act, — a  bit  of 
silly  speculation, — a  good  deal,  in  fact  about  everything 
I  had  when  that  accident  happened,  and  had  thought  to 
put  to  use  my  one  talent.  Fortunately,  the  loss  of  a  leg 
does  not  interfere  with  making  gold  letters  and  chubby 
cupids  and  garlands;  that's  the  reason  I  took  this  room, 
first  because  it  was  sunny  and  high  up  with  an  outlook — 
I  love  roofs  and  fresh  air — and  I  was  going  to  make  it 
pretty  and  use  it  to  live  in  and  work  in. 

Have  I  any  money  left  ?  And  will  excuse  you  for  this 
seeming  curiosity?  Why  bless  your  kind  heart  I  recog- 
nize it  for  interest,  all  right  enough.  Yes  I  have  what 

122 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

will  give  me  about  thirty  dollars  a  month,  income.  That 
seems  not  so  bad  to  you?  No?  Well,  I  suppose  it  is 
enough  to  keep  from  starvation  on,  and  I  can  earn 
enough  for  an  occasional  bit  of  copper  or  a  book. 

Don't  understand?  Oh,  only  I  have  a  craze  for  pick- 
ing up  odd  bits.  Anything  from  a  Colonial  candlestick 
to  a  piece  of  Louis  Quatorze  marquetrie.  And  my  last 
collection,  which  I  have  been  ten  years  making,  I  sold  so 
I  could  have  more  money  to  put  into  that  asinine  specu- 
lation. 

How  could  I  bear  to  part  with  the  things?  Well,  it 
was  a  wrench,  but  then,  I  thought  I  could  commence  all 
over  again  to  collect.  Ah,  what  joy  to  watch  cabinets 
filling  and  walls  being  covered ! 

Any  more  tea  in  the  pot,  no?  Oh,  all  right,  if  you 
have  some  more  hot  water  you  may  make  another  round. 
It  does  seem  to  me  as  though  I  never  in  all  my  life  tasted 
anything  quite  so  good. 

Oh,  you've  brought  some  cold  ham  and  a  jar  of  straw- 
berry jam?  Nearly  six  o'clock,  so  we  might  as  well  make 
it  supper.  Goodness !  is  it  ?  well  then,  so  we  might,  and 
I  '11  slip  into  a  gown. 

You  have  an  idea,  a  thought,  but  you  are  almost  afraid 
to  tell  it  me.  Oh,  tell  me,  why  should  you  be  afraid? 
Ah,  that  is  almost  too  good  to  be  true.  You  want  to  join 
your  fortunes  to  mine,  you  are  lonely  so  much  of  the 
time.  I  am  the  only  one  who  took  much  notice  of  you 
and  you  have  grown  to  watch  for  me  during  that  little 
month  before  my  accident;  you  are  one  of  the  Marthas 
of  life  and  your  own  little  life  does  not  give  you  suffi- 
cient cause  for  worry.  Oh,  bless  your  heart !  so  you  want 
to  add  to  your  woes  the  semi-care  of  a  demi-legged  wom- 
an,—who  is  a  bit  of  a  tyrant,  besides,  verily! 

You  have  also  a  nice  little  income  of  about  twenty-five 
dollars  a  month,— are  forty,  and  very  lonely. 

You  don 't  mind  if  I  give  you  a  hug,  do  you  ?  I  do  not 
hug  many  people,  but  you  for  some  reason  or  other  I 

123 


CHUMS 

have  often  wanted  to.— Your  hair  is  so  fluffy  and  well 
cared  for  and,  now  don't  laugh,  but  every  morning,  I 
used  to  hear  you  drawing  water  for  your  bath  and  I 
would  say  to  myself,  there  is  my  nice,  clean  neighbor. 
No  wonder  her  skin  looks  so  clear  and  her  eyes  so  bright. 
She  knows  the  joy  of  a  good  daily  scrub.  And  you  no- 
ticed the  same  thing  about  me  ?  Ha !  ha !  Now  is  not  that 
jolly !  So  we  have  that  bond  in  common. 

Now  I've  finished  that  ham,  I  declare  I  don't  believe 
you  have  had  a  bite  of  it— you  have?  Let  me  see  your 
plate— well,  I'll  forgive  you  that  fib,  but  no  more.  Too 
excited  to  eat?  Oh,  all  right.  It  takes  me  differently 
when  I  am  excited.  I  am  famished ! 

Heavings !  for  a  cigarette !  What !  you  have  some  to- 
bacco? You  sometimes  smoke  one?  A  neighbor,  a 
Spanish  woman  taught  you  and  when  you  feel  lonely 
you  make  one.  "Well,  I  am  in  luck,  humph !  a  little  dry. 
Smells  like  'Lone  Jack/ — it  is.  Ah— ah — but  that  is 
good! 

For  the  first  two  months  in  the  hospital  I  did  not  think 
of  such  a  thing,  let  alone  want  one,  but  this  last  month  I 
would  have  given  a  good  deal  for  one. 

Yes,  I  '11  just  sit  here  and  watch  the  sunset  and  smoke, 
whilst  you  clear  away  the  supper  things. 

Comfy?  Oh  so  comfy.  Only  drat  this  stick!  I  wish 
it  had  a  joint  in  its  knee.  It's  awfully  in  the  way,  but 
then  suppose  it  was  an  arm  or  both,  and  I  could  not  roll 
my  own  cigarettes  and  was  having  some  one  with  a  dis- 
approving face  poke  the  cigarette  at  me  without  caring 
whether  or  not  the  tobacco  was  falling  out  into  my 
mouth,  and,  too,  knew  she  was  wondering  why  you 
smoked  the  smelly  things  and  how  you  had  the  assurance 
to  take  up  people's  time  holding  the  horrid  things  for 
you  when  there  was  that  lovely  worsted  work  waiting, 
and  Sallie  Adson  calling  you  to  come  and  see  the  new 
lace  collar  she  had  made. 

Yes,  decidedly,  there  is  much  to  be  grateful  for.    Only 

124 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

a  leg  gone.    And  oh,  I  say  but  how  jolly  this  is  and  how 
different  the  sunset  looks  from  here,  ah! 

Yes,  come  in,  oh  you  have  finished !  Dark !  why  so  it 
is.  I  was  dreaming  and  quite  forgot  the  time.  A  little 
chilly,  so  you  have  brought  some  kindling  and  will  start 
a  little  blaze  1  Yes,  these  May  nights  are  still  cool.  Shut 
the  window?  Oh  yes,  the  air  is  all  right  again,  now. 
But  when  I  first  came  in  it  had  that  shut  up  smell  I  hate. 
You  like  plenty  of  fresh  air,  too— always  sleep  with  the 
windows  wide  open,  so  there  will  be  a  current.  Well,  I 
am  in  luck,  to  find  a  chum  who  has  my  two  strongest 
manias,  daily  scrubs  and  air. 

This  looks  promising,  let's  see  how  we  stand  all 
through.  Jolly  little  blaze !  Nothing  like  an  open  fire- 
place, even  if  it  has  but  a  rusty  little  grate,  with  a  capac- 
ity for  holding  a  good  sized  soup-plate-full  of  fuel.  I 
suppose  large  fire-places,  with  old  wrought  iron  fire  dogs 
and  big,  sweet-smelling  logs,  do  not  go  with  fourth-floor 
backs  at  seven  dollars  a  month. 

Can  you  get  me  my  slippers,  yes,  in  that  grip  over 
there.  Thanks,  only  one ;  the  other  being  ornamental  but 
no  longer  useful,  we  might  convert  into  a  receptacle  for 
holding  burnt  matches. 

Will  I  forgive  you?  Oh,  you  blessed  goose,  now  see 
here,  right  here  and  now  we  will  have  this  thing  out. 
You  are  not  to  feel  that  you  are  hurting  me  whenever 
you  forget  this  leg  of  mine  and  you  need  not  give  too 
much  pity  to  me.  I  don't  want  it,  and  truly  do  not  need 
it.  I  have  faced  the  situation  and  got  over  the  horror  of 
it,  and  I  shall  not  let  it  make  me  one  little  bit  unhappy. 

But  my  hair  has  turned  gray  around  the  temples,  since 
I  went  into  the  hospital !  Bless  your  heart,  that  is  noth- 
ing, it  is  time  it  did.  I  am  forty-one. 

You  would  not  have  believed  it?  No?  Well,  I  don't 
see  why  one  need  be  wrinkled  at  forty.  But  I  look  about 
thirty,  do  I?  That's  jolly!  I  must  have  had  a  sheltered 
life  ?  Ha !  ha !  ha !  ha !  ha !  Forgive  me  for  laughing,  my 

125 


CHUMS 

dear,  but  if  you  only  knew  you  would  likewise  laugh. 
A  sheltered  life!  Oh,  delicious!  There,  that  has  done 
me  good,  you  are  very  tonic,  my  dear. 

Now,  for  our  voyage  of  discovery.  Remember,  when 
you  were  a  child,  the  game  of  question  and  answer? 
Well,  you  begin.  You  would  rather  I  did  ?  All  right. 

Do  you  love  books?  Sometimes— Oh  Lord!  then  you 
don't.  People  who  love  them,  love  them  all  times.  But 
you  think  you  do  care  a  great  deal?  Read  some  every 
day  ?  Do  you,  indeed !  Well,  consider  that  settled. 

I  remember  now  to  have  seen  a  what-not  of  books  in 
your  room,  but  if  I  remember  rightly,  they  were  theolog- 
ical works.  Your  father's?  He  was  a  Baptist  minister ? 
Ah,  that  explains.  Your  turn. 

Do  I  like  to  be  waited  on  ?  Bless  the  woman,  she  goes 
straight  to  the  point.  My  dear,  I  do,  I  do.  There  are 
few  things  I  like  more.  Can  you  have  another  question  ? 
Fire  away! 

May  you  take  charge  of  our  joint  menage  and  wait  on 
me  as  much  as  you  want  to?  So  you  have  decided  it  is 
to  be  a  joint  menage.  So-o,  now,  look  here,  Miss  E., — 

Call  you  Ellen?  Well,  if  you  will  let  me  add  an  'H' 
and  make  it  Helen.  My  name  is  Theodosia.  Fits  me, 
doesn't  it?  Oh,  yes,  well.  'Gift  of  God.' 

What  am  I  laughing  at?  Oh,  just  a  thought.— But  to 
get  back  to  our  muttons.— Where  were  we  or  what  was 
I  saying?— 

Oh  yes,  my  predominant  failing  is  laziness.  All  my 
life  I  have  fought  it,  forced  myself  to  tramp  miles, 
forced  myself  to  be  active  physically,  but  now,  well,  I 
cannot  hobble  very  fast  with  this  thing,  so  I  shall  just 
give  way,  and  it  will  be  an  imposition  on  you,  but  as  you 
say  you  want  to  be  imposed  upon— but  see  here,  little 
woman,  this  plan  is  all  very  well  for  me,  I  can  see  where  I 
shall  be  in  the  proverbial  clover,  but  you,  where  do  your 
innings  come  in  ? 

You  will  be  so  happy  to  have  some  one  to  work  for  and 

126 


fuss  over,  and  it  does  get  so  lonely  having  one's  meals 
all  alone  and  with  only  one  there  is  not  enough  to  keep 
one  busy  and  then  time  does  drag. 

Time  drag !  Good  Lord !  Listen  to  the  woman,  drag ! 
and  every  day  but  a  silly  twenty-four  hours.  Well  that 
settles  it— joint  menage  goes.  Evidently  it  is  my  plain 
duty  to  teach  this  woman  the  value  of  time.  I  promise 
you  it  shall  drag  no  more. 

Ah,  is  your  constitution  a  good  one?  Iron?  That  is 
good,  you  will  need  it. 

Nine  o  'clock  ?  Well,  we  will  talk  some  more  tomorrow 
and  settle  things. 

Would  I  like  to  use  your  dressing  room  ?  There  is  hot 
water  and  as  I  am  not  prepared — 

Ah,  my  dear,  we  were  certainly  made  for  a  joint  me- 
nage: yes,  I  would  like,  beyond  words.  Even  my  body 
smells  of  hospital.  Will  you  get  me  out  a  night-dress  and 
a  flannel  wrapper  and  hand  me  a  couple  of  bath  towels 
and  my  toilet  bag  ? 

Nice  little  dressing-room,  big  sitz-tub,  cold  running 
water,  everything  as  clean  as  a  whistle.  Pretty  chintz 
covered  dressing-table,  all  sorts  of  little  contrivances  for 
comfort,  and  sweet  and  clean. 

Oh,  the  luxury  of  it  all!  No  hospital  smells.  Heav- 
ens !  but  it  does  feel  queer  to  go  hopping  around  on  one 
leg,  and  a  bit  awkward.  There !  I  've  dropped  my  flesh 
brush  and  how  on  earth  can  I  reach  it?  I  cannot  go 
crawling  around  dripping  soapsuds  over  the  floor — Oh, 
Miss— oh  Helen,  Helen,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  recover 
my  brush  for  me,  it  slipped  away. 

Thanks,  yes,  you  can.  It's  awfully  hard  to  reach  the 
middle  of  one's  back,  especially  if  one  has  to  do  the  bal- 
ancing act  at  the  same  time.  * 

Too  hard  ?  No.  I  like  it.  The  brush  is  so  stiff.  Yes, 
I  know,  I  keep  seven  going.  One  for  each  day,  so  they 
will  get  dried  and  firm.  I  detest  squashy  bristles.  No 
wonder  that  my  flesh  is  so  firm.  Yes,  it's  good  solid  flesh. 

127 


CHUMS 


—I  have  my  work  cut  out  for  me  now,  to  keep  it  down. — 
Thanks  awfully. 

Yes,  that's  the  powder  in  the  big  silver  shaker.  It 
smells  good?  Yes,  I  put  a  piece  of  absorbent  cotton  in 
the  shaker,  with  a  few  drops  of  essential  oil  on  it  and 
then  pour  the  powder  over  it.  I  do  love  scents.  Shall 
have  to  take  a  dried  geranium  leaf  and  verbena  for  my 
sachets.  No  more  at  five  dollars  a  bottle. 

Will  I  put  on  an  undervest?  Oh,  no,  I  never  wear 
anything  but  my  night-gown,— And  you  also? 

You  will  clear  up?  Ah,  my  dear,  but  you  are  kind, 
and  I  am  very  grateful. 

Good  night,  good  night. 

Ah,  bed  a  bit  lumpy,  but  it's  clean  and  no  hospital 
smell.  Yes  there  is,  too.  I  smell  it.  My  clothes,  of 
course.  I'll  just  hop  out  and  drop  them  on  the  landing 
until  morning.  They  will  be  safe.  There !  Oh,  that  you 
Helen? 

No,  thanks,  I  don't  need  anything.  I  was  just  putting 
my  clothes  outside  because  they  smelled  hospitally. 
Good  night.  Ah,  must  not  forget  my  truth  statement: 
'I,  soul,  self,  am  subject  only  to  the  law  of  the  good, 
which  now  is  working  towards  and  through  me,  in  infin- 
ite love  and  freedom.  I  have  faith  in  its  perfect  out- 
working. It  works  in  love  and  I  trust  it.  The  eternal 
good  be  for  everyone. ' 


Ah Heavings !  I  nearly  dislocated  my  jaw.  I  won- 
der what  time  it  is?  The  sun  looks  awfully  superior,  as 
though  it  had  been  up  a  long  time  and  had  a  great  con- 
tempt for  lazy  folks.  Wonder  if  that  water  I  hear  run- 
ning is  for  my  neighbor's  bath,  or  mine. 

Ah,  but  this  air  is  lovely.  Now,  if  there  is  one  thing 
more  than  another  that  I  like,  it  is  to  wake  up  and  feel 
the  air  on  my  face  and  know  that  the  room  is  sweet  and 
fresh.  Oh,  what  they  miss,  these  dirty  folk  who  sleep 

128 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

with  the  windows  closed,  or  open  only  a  silly  hand's 
width. 

Well,  Theodosia,  my  dear,  you  are  at  your  old  tricks— 
'so  glad  you  are  not  as  others  are.' 

Guess  I  '11  get  up  and  see  what  time  it  is,  and  see  if  that 
is  my  bath  that  is  running— hop,  hop,  hop,  I  shall  have 
to  rig  up  some  sort  of  an  arrangement,  a  kind  of  crutch- 
stick  to  use  until  after  I  have  tubbed  mornings ;  I  cannot 
be  bothered  putting  on  the  peg-leg  twice. 

Yes, — come  in,  good  morning!  Yes,  thanks,  I  slept 
like  a  good  baby.  Never  once  wakened  until  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  ago. 

Will  I  have  my  tub  now  ? 

WeU,  won't  I  just?    What  time  is  it? 

Nine?  goodness  gracious!  what  a  sleep.  You  look  as 
fresh  as  a  rose. 

Will  I  have  my  coffee  first? 

No  thanks,  I  like  to  get  scrubbed  and  tubbed  first,  but 
if  you  will  get  me  out  fresh  clothes— yes,  the  largest 
trunk. 

They  are  pretty, — do  I  always  wear  such  lovely 
things  ? 

Umph !  well  I  have,  but  when  they  give  out  I  suppose 
I  shall  wear  whatever  I  am  lucky  enough  to  be  able  to 
get.  You  see,  my  dear,  thirty  a  month  does  not  run  to 
ten-apiece  silk  undervests  and  laced  and  beribboned 
pantities. 

Plenty  in  the  trunk  ? 

Yes,  I  remember  several  sets  of  new  ones  I  bought  in 
Paris,  that  I've  never  worn.  I  wonder  where  Rogers 
put  them? 

Rogers?  Oh,  she  is  my  maid.  Or  rather,  was— when 
I  found  that  I  was  a  pauper  I  left  Rogers  in  London 
with  several  other  superfluities.  Hop,  hop,  hop,  hop. 
This  little  hall  takes  just  six  hops  to  cross. 

Oh,  what  a  good  arrangement,  I  always  like  a  shower, 
and  was  wondering  how  you  managed  your  morning 

129 


CHUMS 

scrub:  I  did  not  notice  by  candlelight.  The  pipe  and 
spray. — Well,  if  that's  not  almost  uncanny.  You  must 
be  a  mind  reader ! 

No,  it's  just  your  way. 

Mine,  too,  my  dear.  Every  one  of  my  own  pet  ar- 
rangements, first  tooth-water,  a  trifle  warm,  then  the 
little  tub  of  good  soapy  water,  then  the  cold  shower.— It 
takes  no  longer  to  get  things  accomplished  with  one  leg 
only  to  get  about  on  I  find.  There,  that's  done. 

No  thanks,  nothing  more,  everything  is  handy.  All 
right,  I  '11  let  you  know  when  I  am  ready. 

Goodness,  but  this  cold  water  is  heavenly.  The  fates 
be  praised,  water  is  cheap.  Now  if  I  had  to  economize  on 
that,  I  should  just  give  up. 

Now,  I'll  hop  across  to  my  room  and  do  my  hair,  slip 
into  a  shirt-waist  and  skirt  and  be  ready  in  a  jiffy. 

Coffee,  good  coffee!  Lovely  smell!  My  little  neigh- 
bor is  astonishingly  well  up  in  the  comforts,  that  is  what 
I  call  the  comforts,  of  life. 

I  wonder  how  you  let  the  water  out  of  this  tub  ?  Oh, 
I  see,  a  plug.  Now,  that's  clever,  saves  having  to  dip  it 
out  again ;  evidently  connected  with  the  drain  pipe  some 
way. 

Ought  to  put  the  room  to  rights  a  bit.  Ah,  Theodosia, 
there  is  where  you  are  going  to  miss  Rogers,  you  are  a 
novice  yet.  8 acre  Dieu!  that  will  leave  a  black  and  blue 
as  big  as  a  saucer. 

Did  I  fall? 

Well,  yes,  I  sat  down  rather  abruptly.  Don't  mind  if 
you  hear  me  knocking  about  a  bit,  I  forget  and  try  to 
walk  on  that  lost  leg,  but  I  '11  get  used  to  it  in  time. 

All  right,  if  you  will  be  crutch — there,  safely  arrived. 

Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Earl,  Helen,  want  to  see  something 
funny,  look, — 

I  thought  it  would  make  you  laugh,  all  these  frills  and 
insertions  hanging  around  a  stick.  Now,  as  I  believe  in 
the  eternal  fitness  of  things,  my  beloved  frills  must  go, 

130 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

and  I  will  come  down  to  nice  plain,  good  looking  panti- 
ties;  besides,  fancy  seven  pairs  of  these  a  week  for  the 
laundry !  It  would  take  all  '  me  wealth '  to  pay  laundry 
bills. 

Now,  I  wonder  in  what  trunk  that  brown  cloth  is  ?  Oh 
well,  never  mind,  I  can  find  out  later.  I'll  put  on  a 
kimona  for  coffee. 

Ready  ? 

Yes,  just  a  minute,  until  I  twist  up  my  hair,  my  glori- 
ous hair.  Yes,  it  is  nice  hair. 

Never  saw  prettier? 

Ah,  my  dear,  I  fear  you  are  sadly  prejudiced  in  my 
favor.  Now  for  six  more  hops. 

Two  lumps  please,  hot  milk  just  half  a  cupful,  then 
quarter  coffee  and  then  cream. 

Delicious !  Yes,  I  like  the  coffee  made  very  strong  and 
clear.  I  loathe  the  insipid  stuff  so  many  make.  The 
Continentals  are  the  coffee  makers  of  the  world. 

What  a  pretty,  quaint  'old  world'  room  this  is.  You 
have  the  next  one  also  ? 

No?  "Well,  you  are  a  good  little  housekeeper.  Not  a 
single  thing  to  suggest  bedroom.  Air  fresh,  no  sign  of 
bed.  Ah,  yes,  I  see,  box  couch  and  all  the  toilet  things 
in  the  dressing-room.  You  have  some  lovely  old  mahog- 
any, my  dear;  that  old  chest  of  drawers  with  the  brass 
inlay  is  a  gem;  and  that  old  table  and  the  chairs, — the 
book-case  too,— 

Belonged  to  your  mother's  mother?  Are  over  a  hun- 
dred years  old?  You  love  them  because  of  old  associa- 
tion, but  you  don 't  think  them  very  cheerful. 

Oh,  ye  gods  and  little  fishes,  cheerful ! 

No  thanks,  no  egg,  but  another  cup  of  coffee.  I  allow 
myself  two  cups  always,  and  a  piece  of  toast.  You  are 
flushed  and  fidgety,  what  is  the  matter? 

Oh,  you  want  to  talk  about  our  plans.  Your  plans, 
you  mean.  All  right,  fire  ahead. 

Where  do  I  want  to  live  ? 

131 


CHUMS 

Well,  I  want  to  live  here.  I  find  all  sorts  of  possibili- 
ties in  this  attic  and  with  our  rooms  on  the  same  land- 
ing and  at  the  back  and  facing,  we  could  make  things 
very  comfy.  But,  I  confess  those  stairs  stagger  me. 
Still,  I  knew  a  man  who  lived  'way  up  at  the  top  of  an 
old  house  in  Florence,  who  was  crippled  in  the  same  way, 
and  yet  he  did  not  seem  to  be  'phased'  by  considerably 
more  than  four  flights,  and  if  one  is  poor  one  must  live 
high  up  to  get  air  and  sun.  Yes,  the  more  I  think  of  it, 
the  more  I  do  not  want  to  leave.  Am  glad  now  I  sent 
over  to  Mrs.  Goggens  and  had  her  keep  the  rooms,  al- 
though I  thought  at  the  time  I  was  a  bit  wild  to  do  so, 
but  I  knew  that  you  and  she  would  see  that  my  trunks 
were  undisturbed,  and  I  could  not  store  them  for  much 
less  than  the  rent,  so  I  did  it. 

You  know,  from  the  first  I  felt  that  I  was  not  going  to 
die,  and  all  these  three  months  I  have  been  seeing  my  life 
in  the  years  to  come,  making  all  sorts  of  plans,  to  while 
away  the  time.  My  eyes  were  queer  from  the  shock  my 
system  had  received  and  I  was  not  allowed  to  read  much ; 
so  those  long  days  of  pain,  I  got  through  by  building 
castles— queer,  little,  one-room-in-an-attic  castles,  but  it 
helped. 

I  never  expected  to  find  a  chum,  though,  ready  and 
waiting  for  me.  Ah,  my  dear,  some  day  I  will  tell  you 
how  your  welcome  to  me  yesterday  and  your  affection 
and  interest  have  helped  me  to  get  over  a  rather  mauvais 
quatre  heure. 

Now,  if  you  weep  into  the  sugar  basin  any  more,  you 
will  spoil  the  sugar. 

Not  crying  because  you're  unhappy,  but  because 
you're  happy? 

Bless  your  heart !  you  must  have  been  a  lonely  soul,  to 
so  welcome  a  bothersome  neighbor.  There,  there,  that's 
a  dear.  I  feel  a  little  as  though  I  had  made  a  mistake, 
swallowed  one  of  those  tea-balls  and  it  had  stuck  in  my 
throat.  Now,  I  dislike  the  feeling.  There,  that's  right, 
smile,— that  is  a  more  understandable  effect  of  joy. 

132 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

Shall  we  have  a  cigarette  before  we  clear  away? 

I  declare  I  think  our  views  are  lovely  from  these  win- 
dows. Do  you  know  there  is  a  little  strip  of  flat  roof, 
just  outside  the  window  in  the  passage,  that  we  could 
convert  into  a  little  veranda  and  sit  out  on,  warm  eve- 
nings, if  only  the  window  were  a  door.  The  parapet  is 
around  the  outer  edge,  so  there  would  be  a  place  to  put 
some  pots  of  plants  and  it  would  be  beautifully  cool. 
Methinks  about  June  we  are  going  to  feellhe  heat. 

Finished  your  cigarette  ?    Another  ? 

No  ?    I  always  like  two. 

You  are  going  to  clear  away  ?    Do  not  want  any  help. 

Well,  if  you  insist  I  will  just  sit  here  and  chat  to  you, 
whilst  I  finish  this  last  cigarette. 

Let  me  see,  where  was  I— Oh,  yes,  veranda.  I  think 
Mrs.  Goggens — nice  name  that,  someway  it  just  suits 
one's  idea  of  a  lodging-house  keeper,  kind  hearted,  in- 
quisitive, given  to  Rubenesque  outlines  and  no  corsets, 
always  a  bit  doubtful  as  to  back  hair  and  the  king's  Eng- 
lish— yes,  decidedly,  I  think  if  we  agreed  to  pay  for  it 
she  would  let  us  have  that  window  cut  into  a  door. 

I  have  about  a  hundred  dollars  or  so  I  can  spend,  be- 
fore getting  down  to  cases,  which  means  the  thirty  a 
month,  and  I  had  intended  making  myself  comfy,  and  in- 
cidentally, artistic,  at  the  time  I  got  my  silly  self  run 
over. ' ' 


"Not  bad,  Dot.  Sounds  just  as  she  told  it.  What  a 
plucky  woman  she  is." 

' '  Yes,  she  is  plucky, ' '  answered  Dot,  pouring  the  boil- 
ing water  over  the  tea  leaves  and  peering  into  the  small, 
fat  tea  pot.  "And  she's  a  great  deal  more  than  merely 
that,— kind,  tender-hearted,  lovable  thing!  It's  no  won- 
der everyone  cares  for  her. ' ' 

' '  Yes,  you  are  a  lot  of  slaves  to  her  majesty, ' '  laughed 
Neil. 

"Well,  we  like  our  slavery  and  when  one  is  lucky 

133 


CHUMS 

enough  to  be  liked  by  Theodosia,  one  hugs  one's  chains. 
Of  course  we  are  really  anything  but  slaves.  She  would 
not  tolerate  us  a  second  if  we  were.  But  likewise  Dosia 
has,  in  a  superlative  degree,  what  we  have  in  more  or 
less  feeble  ones  and  we  have  the  brains  to  recognize  the 
fact,  that's  all. 

"Do  you  want  two  full  spoons  of  sugar  in  your  tea?" 

' '  That  means,  I  suppose,  that  I  get  them  if  I  acknowl- 
edge the  superiority  of  the  'Idol.'  All  right,  she  is  every- 
thing you  say,  thanks,"  taking  the  cup  and  bending 
down  to  kiss  her.  "And  you  are  justified  in  your  ad- 
miration, only  I  am  occasionally  glad  our  Dosia  has 
elected  to  stay  in  Europe  for  awhile,  for  she  sort  of  ab- 
sorbs everything  in  the  emotional  line. ' ' 

Dot  lifted  her  eyebrows  at  him. 

"Are  you  jealous,  Neil?  I  know  they  say  men  often 
are  of  any  admiration  or  affection  shown  to  anyone  be- 
side themselves. ' ' 

"You've  twisted  the  'on  dit,'  honey,  it's  t'other  way 
about :  the  husband  is  looked  upon  askance  if  he  tries  to 
keep  up  his  bachelor  friendships  and  I  don't  think  I  am 
quite  such  an  egoist  as  to  feel  neglected  if  you  have  a 
chum  other  than  myself,  but  it  is  not  bad,  having  the  af- 
fair carried  on  by  letter,  you  know.  I  get  all  the  fun  of 
hearing  the  interesting  bits  without  having  to  sit  up  and 
take  notice,  if  I  don't  want  to." 

"Neil,  did  it  ever  strike  you  that  we  are  a  very  unus- 
ual couple?" 

"Yes,  honey,  but  I  think  it's  because  we  have  been  un- 
fortunate in  having  known  the  miserable  lot.  I  am  cer- 
tain the  good  old  world's  full  of  happy  and  congenial 
couples. ' ' 

"Are  you  Neil?  Well,  I  would  like  to  know  just  one. 
Whom  do  you  know,  they  must  be  people  I  never  heard 
of  before. ' ' 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't;  but  puss,  that's  only 
because  we  don 't  know  many  people. ' ' 

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A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

"Yes,  we  do.  Heaps.  And  every  last  one  of  them  is 
discontented  and  more  or  less  actively  unhappy.  We  are 
certainly  unusual,  Neil. ' ' 

"Well,  thanks  be,  we  are  if  what  you  say  is  the  case, — 
poor  devils,  what  a  lot  they  miss,  don't  they?  How  do 
you  account  for  it,  Dot?  Most  of  them  start  out  think- 
ing they  are  in  love  hard  enough  to  last  through  every- 
thing Dame  Fortune  can  send  them. ' ' 

Dot  looked  out  to  sea,  her  pretty  face  serious  as  she 
thought  awhile,  then  she  said,  turning  to  her  husband, — 

"I  don't  know  dear,  just  how  well  I  can  put  into 
words  what  I  feel,  for  it's  something  more  than  think, 
but  I  believe  that  there  is  too  much  idleness  for  the  wives, 
too  much  strenuousness  for  the  husbands,  and  the  life  in 
big  cities  is  all  against  the  family  and  the  home.  The 
constant  seeing,  hearing,  being  in  the  atmosphere  of 
wealth  breeds  the  multitude  of  evils  in  the  lives  of  the 
great  majority  of  the  ones  who  do  not  belong  to  the  very 
rich.  Then  luxuries  become  necessities  and  health  and 
comfort  and  happiness  are  sacrificed.  You  know  Elbert 
Hubbard  is  right  when  he  says," — 

"Shrieks,"  interpolated  Neil. 

' '  Well,  shrieks, ' '  she  amended,  ' '  that  the  greatest  good 
is,  health  with  work.  And  no  one  who  does  not  know 
the  blessedness  of  effort  can  be  happy.  Do  you  know, 
Neil,  since  we  have  been  out  here,  the  thought  has  come 
to  me  so  often  to  write  a  truthful  little  account,  giving 
exact  data  of  our  life  here.  My  heart  grows  heavy  when 
I  think  of  the  many  who  do  not  realize  what  can  be  done, 
given  ever  so  small  a  capital  or  income  in  this  land  of 
almost  perpetual  sunshine— do  not,  cannot  know,  situ- 
ated as  they  are  at  home.  Here  there  are  no  terrible 
winters,  and  people  can  sleep  under  canvas  with  comfort 
and  health  all  the  year.  Think  of  whpt  that,  in  itself, 
means,  compared  with  the  cost  of  the  simplest  flats  over 
there  and  those  long,  cold  months.  What  lives  could  be 
saved  that  are  otherwise  doomed. 

135 


CHUMS 

Did  I  tell  you  that  Mrs.  V.  wants  us  to  rent  our  tent 
and  shed  to  a  couple  of  women  who  have  come  out  from 
Vermont?  School  teachers.  One  has  consumption,  but 
it's  not  a  hopeless  case,  and  the  other  is  a  chum  who  has 
come  along  to  nurse  the  sick  one.  It  seems  that  most  of 
the  little  savings  they  had  have  taken  unto  themselves 
wings,  as  savings  do  under  such  circumstances,  and  they 
have  very  little  left ;  so  they  want  to  economize  in  every 
way,  and  cottage  rents  are  beyond  them,  besides  they 
want  to  be  in  some  place  that  can  be  sort  of  homey ;  Mrs. 
V.  told  them  how  pretty  our  old  tent  was,  and  after  see- 
ing it  they  begged  her  to  ask  us  if  we  would  rent  it. ' ' 

"Yes,  by  all  means,  Dot,  let  them  have  it,  lend  it  to 
them.  Bother  the  rent,  if  they  are  so  hard  up. ' ' 

She  patted  his  arm  affectionately, — 

''Well,  I  do  not  think  that  would  do,  dear,  for  they 
are  not  the  kind  of  people  one  could  'lend  things'  to — 
too  proud,  and  so  I  think  we  will  say  ten  dollars  a  month,, 
which  will  satisfy  their  pride  and  pay  for  wear  and  tear, 
for  we  are  not  exactly  Croesus  ourselves,  you  know,  and 
must,  I  suppose,  curb  our  generosity  until — well,  until 
that  carnation  farm  is  an  accomplished  fact." 

"Yes,  of  course  you're  right,  Dot,  but  when  we  get  on 
easy  street  let's  put  aside  half  our  income  every  year  to 
help  along  the  good  cause.  We  will  put  up  heaps  of  little 
tents  and  sheds  and  make  them  pretty  and  comfortable 
and  rent  them  cheap  to  people  who  are  busted  as  to  pock- 
et-book and  lungs,  won't  we,  girlie?" 

Dot  nodded. 

"Yes,  my  heart  goes  out  to  the  sick  people  who  are 
poor,  Neil,  and  it  also  goes  out  to  the  well  people  who  are 
squandering  their  health  in  the  big  Eastern  cities.  Nine- 
tenths  of  them  cannot  but  be  workers,  so  why  not  come 
out  to  this  heaven  and  work  under  the  conditions  that 
make  for  good?  Queer  thing,  this  gregariousness,  don't 
you  think?  and  that,  I  suppose,  is  what  it  is  that  will 
make  people  herd  in  cities  and  suffer  everything  in  the 

136 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

way  of  physical  and  moral  ill,  when  in  a  great  country 
like  this  everyone  might  have  breathing  space  for  soul 
and  body." 

"It's  a  big  question.  Too  big  for  that  pretty  little 
head  of  yours,  girlie.  Stop  frowning  over  the  woes  of 
humanity  in  general,  and  get  your  violin  and  play  to 
this  particular  unit,  whose  back  is  lame  with  stooping 
over  slips  and  planting  cuttings  and  wants  to  rest 
awhile." 

"All  right,  lie  down  flat.  That's  the  best  way  to  rest, 
and  I'll  tune  up  whilst  you  build  castles,"  she  said. 


PART  II. 

One  afternoon  Dot  ran  down  the  path  to  the  farm  and, 
perching  on  the  top  bar  of  the  fence,  gave  the  call  they 
used,  ' '  oo-oo-oo. ' '  Her  husband 's  tall  form  straightened 
up  from  its  stooped  position  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
field  and  she  heard  his  answering  ' '  oo-o-oooo-oo "  and 
beckoned  him  to  come  nearer.  When  he  had  got  half 
way  across  she  called, — 

"Neil,  Daisy's  got  an  awful  tummy  ache,  what  shall 
I  do?" 

"Oh,  heavens,  I  don't  know.  What  makes  you  think 
it  is  tummy  ? "  he  asked,  coming  up  to  the  fence. 

"Well,  I  heard  funny  noises,  and  when  I  went  to  in- 
vestigate, she  was  lying  down  and  acting  as  a  youngster 
does  with  colic.  Poor  dear,  she  eyed  me  so  pathetically, 
and  I  ran  to  tell  you.  Come  and  look  at  her.  Don't  they 
give  hot— hot  scotches— no,  hot  smashes— hot  mashes  or 
something?" 

"I  have  a  vague  idea  they  do,  but  what  constitutes  a 
hot  mash  ? "  he  asked.  ' '  My  experience  with  Jersey  cows 
in  the  colic  has  been  limited. ' ' 

After  they  had  looked  poor  Daisy  over,  they  exchanged 
glances  of  dismay  and  Neil  said,— 

137 


CHUMS 

"Something's  wrong,  that's  certain.  Guess  I'd  better 
run  along  to  Welkid's  and  ask  him  to  come  up,  the  poor 
thing  is  shaking  all  over.  Can't  you  cover  her  up  with 
something  Dot?  A  flannel  blanket,  or  something?" 

"Oh,  Neil,  remember  Betsy  Barker's  cow,  when  she 
tumbled  into  the  lime  pit  and  they  put  her  into  flannel 
waistcoat  and  flannel  drawers?  I'll  just  run  in  and  get 
that  old  travelling  rug  and  put  it  over  her. ' '  Which  she 
did  and  sat  down  near  Daisy  until  Neil  and  Mr.  Welkid 
returned.  His  experienced  eyes  showed  him  what  was 
wrong  and  after  an  hour's  treatment,  to  which  poor 
Daisy  meekly  submitted,  he  said, — 

"There!  the  beast  will  be  all  right  soon.  Keep  her  in 
her  stable  yard  for  a  day  or  two  and  chuck  away  her  milk 
for  a  couple  of  milkings.  Where  have  you  been  pastur- 
ing her  ? ' '  Neil  pointed  to  the  hillside,  and  he  said, — 

"As  1  go  home  I'll  just  look  over  the  ground  to  see 
what's  there." 

"What  a  quantity  of  things  we  don't  know.  I  feel 
awfully  humble,  don 't  you  ? ' '  said  Dot  to  Neil. 

The  following  day  Dot  was  beaming  as  Neil  came  out 
to  the  veranda  for  his  tea. 

"What's  up,  Sunshine?"  he  asked. 

"Sit  down  and  be  comfy  and  I'll  tell  you." 

After  she  had  put  his  tea-cup  on  the  broad  arm  of  his 
chair  and  tucked  another  cushion  under  his  head,  she 
settled  down  near  him  and  began, — 

"Well!  the  two  school  teachers  who  want  our  tent — 
are  not  school  teachers.  Trust  Mrs.  V.  for  getting  things 
mixed.  But  one  of  them  is  that  old  friend  of  Martha 
Holding's,  Mary  Tobin,  who  was  at  the  mission  house 
when  Martha  first  went  there ;  and  the  other,  the  sick  one, 
is  a  Mrs.  Dorian  who  was  at  one  time  a  singer,  lost  her 
voice,  then  her  money,  then  her  health,  and  now  Mary 
has  taken  up  the  case.  I  never  have  been  so  delighted  in 
my  life  before.  We  never  met  Mary  Tobin,  she  had  gone 
to  England,  you  know,  when  I  first  met  the  settlement 

138 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

folk,  but  I  know  her  as  well  as  though  I  had  lived  next 
door  to  her  all  my  life,  from  hearing  Martha  and  others 
talk  of  her.  And  Neil,  she's  a  dear!  Just  our  kind. 
Clever  and  strong,  kind  and  practical.  She  is  devoting 
herself  to  Mrs.  Dorian,  as  she  evidently  does  to  any  work 
that  comes  to  hand,  only  in  this  case  there  is  a  tremen- 
dous affection  felt. 

The  only  part  of  Mrs.  Vs  story  that  is  correct  is,  that 
they  have  a  very  tiny  income  only,  and  must  be  careful ; 
and  that  is  the  reason  they  want  the  tent.  The  income  is 
entirely  Mary 's.  She  did  not  tell  me  that,  I  just  sensed 
it.  I  do  not  care  so  much  for  the  Dorian  person;  still, 
poor  thing,  she  is  wofully  sick  and  has  had  such  fiendish 
knocks  from  fate,  that  probably  she's  excusable  for  be- 
ing queer.  She  has  been  a  great  beauty  and  is  very  ac- 
complished and  all  that,— but  Mary's  a  dear." 

Neil  laughed.  ' '  Catch  your  breath,  honey  girl,  and 
drink  your  tea.  Incidentally,  give  your  tired  man  anoth- 
er cup.  How  did  it  happen  that  Miss  Tobin  brought  no 
letter  from  Martha?" 

"She  did,  but  did  not  intend  to  present  it  until  they 
were  all  settled  here,  so  that  we  might  not  feel  under  any 
obligation  to  put  ourselves  out  in  any  way.  It  was  quite 
by  accident  that  all  of  this  came  about. 

They  will  move  into  the  tent  tomorrow  and  I  prom- 
ised to  sell  them  milk  and  vegetables  and  eggs.  I  would 
like  to  give  them,  but  Mary  is  not  the  kind  of  a  person 
one  could  give  anything  to.  I  can  quite  well  fancy  her 
going  without,  but  not  accepting  favors.  All  her  life  she 
has  bestowed;  given  herself,  her  time,  her  strength,  her 
youth  to  the  service  of  others,  and  yet  she  is  not  a  bit  the 
goody  kind,  Neil,  but  as  jolly  and  witty  and  human  as 
can  be.  I  lost  my  heart  to  her." 

"So  I  perceive,  my  dear!"  said  her  husband,  looking 
amusedly  at  her.  "They  won't  be  too  chummy,  will 
they,  Dot?  I  seem  to  see  with  my  mind's  eye,  groups  of 
female  figures  here  on  the  veranda,  all  talking,  all  drink- 

139 


CHUMS 

ing  tea,  and  a  long  shadowy  form  dimly  visible,  over  by 
the  end,  quite  crowded  into  a  corner,  which  bears  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  me — and  see  the  form  growing  less 
and  less,  until  only  the  female  figures  are  left  in  the  pic- 
ture. "  As  he  spoke  he  leaned  forward  and  peered  about. 

"No  you  don't.  You  see  an  admiring  group  of  female 
figures  gathered  about  that  old  lounge  chair,  all  paying 
rapt  attention  to  your  opinions  on  the  subject  of — oh, 
any  old  thing,  as  far  as  that  goes.  Lucky  I  am  not  of  a 
jealous  temperament,  or  I  should  be  green !  But  truly, 
old  boy,  I  won't  let  you  be  bored.  I  will  fix  things  so 
that  our  blessed  time  together  will  not  be  interfered  with 
much.  Anyway,  I'd  rather  be  all  alone  with  you  than 
have  other  people  about.  Is  it  not  jolly  that  we  never 
'get  on'  each  other's  nerves?  Or  get  tired  of  each  other? 

But  Neil,  you  look  as  though  something  were  bothering 
you.  What  is  it,  dear  ? 

He  glanced  at  her  amusedly. 

"What  keen  eyes  the  small  person  has!  No,  I  am  not 
exactly  bothered,  only  perplexed  a  bit  over  my  lack  of 
experience.  I  find  it  is  one  thing  to  have  theories  and 
quite  another  to  put  them  into  practice,  and  I  am  afraid 
I  must  serve  a  sort  of  apprenticeship  to  good  Mother 
Nature  before  I  branch  out  much  on  my  own  hook.  I 
have  been  talking  with  Welkid  and  he  thinks  that  I 
would  best  go  slow  about  putting  out  any  more  money  or 
labor  on  the  carnation  plan  for  this  year,  and  devote  my- 
self to  garden  truck. ' ' 

"Oh — oh — poor  dear!"  said  Dot.  "And  you  had  so 
set  your  heart  on  the  other. ' ' 

"Never  mind,  honey,  if  I  can  grow  good  truck  and  sell 
it,  that's  pretty  good;  and  after  I've  more  experience 
and  a  little  money  put  by,  the  other  will  come ;  I  find  that 
it  does  need  those  two  indispensables ;  but  Welkid  says 
he  will  take  all  the  truck  I  can  raise,  at  a  fair  price,  and 
send  it  in  to  the  city.  It's  not  as  pretty  as  raising  flow- 
ers, is  it  ?  "  making  a  wry  face.  ' '  But  it  will  mean  ready 

140 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

money,  just  as  fast  as  I  can  get  things  to  the  picking 
stage.  So  it's  to  be  early  pease  and  fine  asparagus  and 
even  the  plebeian  squash  and  the  other  poor  relations  of 
the  vegetable  family. ' ' 

"You  don't  feel  too  despondent,  do  you  Neil?" 

"Well,  not  to  the  point  of  despair,"  he  answered, 
smiling.  "And  after  all,  dearie,  the  fact  that  we  have 
this  ducky  little  place  all  paid  for  is  great ! ' ' 

"Yes,  Neil,  and  you  are  well  and  getting  stronger 
every  day,  with  no  fear  of  being  without  the  necessities 
to  bother  us,  and  the  free,  open-air  work.  Surely  even 
raising  garden  truck  is  better  than  being  in  a  stuffy  of- 
fice for  eight  hours  a  day,  isn't  it  Neil?" 

' '  Rather !  and  we  will  stick  to  our  plan  of  being  work- 
ers, not  slaves.  The  mistake  that  so  many  make  is  that 
they  are  too  anxious  to  make  enough  money  to  be  done 
with  the  thing  and  go  back  to  what  they  call  civilization, 
but  we  intend  to  live  our  lives  here  and  get  the  blessing 
of  the  labor  and  its  fruit,  as  we  go  along. 

There's  a  ripping  book  in  that  last  packet  that  Dick 
sent.  Feel  like  reading  to  me,  honey  ?  I  am  in  a  partic- 
ularly receptive  mood. ' ' 

"Which  means  that  you  are  just  plain  lazy,"  laughed 
Dot. 

So  the  big  man  stretched  out  on  the  long  cane  chair 
and  she  read  to  him. 


Mary  Tobin  moved  into  the  tent  which,  during  the  sev- 
eral months  since  the  young  couple  left  it,  had  been 
empty.  The  vines  had  grown  well  and  the  small  dining- 
room  kitchen  was  a  bower.  Dot  had  taken  great  delight 
in  arranging  things  so  that  they  should  find  the  place 
cheerful  and  comfortable,  and  had  robbed  her  own  place 
of  many  rustic  baskets  and  pots  of  plants  to  that  end. 

When  Mary  Tobin  came  up  for  the  milk,  the  evening 
of  the  day  they  moved  in,  she  looked  radiant. 

141 


CHUMS 

"Mrs.  Amerton,  we're  no  end  obliged  to  you,  and  my 
friend  wants  me  to  thank  you,  for  her,  for  your 
thoughtfulness  and  kindness.  We're  all  settled  and 
shall  look  for  you  for  tea,  tomorrow.  Have  a  bunch  of 
letters  from  Theo  and  the  others  to  read  to  you,  and  no 
end  of  things  I  want  to  talk  to  you  of,  and  no  end  of 
questions  I  want  to  ask. ' ' 

"That  will  be  jolly,  my  husband  has  to  go  to  town  to- 
morrow, so  that  will  leave  me  free.  Ordinarily,  I  do  not 
go  out  at  tea-time,  for  that  is  our  breathing  spell  and 
time  to  be  together. 

How  is  your  friend,  Miss  Tobin  ? ' ' 

Mary's  face  lost  some  of  its  radiance,  as  she  an- 
swered,— 

"No  worse,  but  no  better;  I  am  hoping  all  things  from 
this  life  here,  but  I  think  it  is  at  least  half  mental.  She 
is  in  a  state  of  despondency  and  that  is  the  hardest  thing 
to  deal  with;  she  cannot  seem  to  adjust  herself  to  the 
new  conditions  of  her  life,  cannot  seem  to  feel  that  there 
is  anything  worth  making  the  effort  to  live  for.  If  some- 
thing were  to  rouse  her  from  the  apathetic  condition,  I 
should  say  that  she  had  a  chance  to  get  well."  With  a 
sigh,  Mary  took  up  the  pail  of  milk  and  looking  into 
Dot's  sympathetic  face,-  said, — 

"I  am  hoping  you  will  do  her  a  lot  of  good.  I  am 
such  an  old  story  that  I  have  lost  my  power  over  her,  so 
don't  fail  to  come,  will  you?" 

The  following  day,  when  everything  at  home  was  in 
order,  Dot  put  on  a  fresh  shirt-waist  and,  carrying  a  big 
bunch  of  flowers,  took  her  way  across  the  field  and  down 
to  the  fence.  She  found  the  invalid  lying  in  the  ham- 
mock and  Mary  tacking  up  some  sketches,  when  she  ar- 
rived, and  they  made  her  welcome. 

"It's  a  trifle  before  tea-time, but  I  am  so  thirsty  I  shall 
be  grateful  if  you  will  forget  that  twenty-odd  minutes, 
Miss  Tobin,  and  give  me  my  tea,"  she  said,  after  they 
had  accomplished  the  "getting  acquainted";  and  while 

142 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

Mary  bustled  about  she  told  them  of  her  experiences  with 
tent  life  in  the  same  quarters,  a  few  months  previous, 
and  of  how  much  the  air  and  life  had  done  for  her  hus- 
band, of  their  deciding  to  take  the  hill  place,  of  their 
tearing  down  the  old  house  and  building  the  present  one 
from  its  timbers  and  sun-and-wind-mellowed  boards. 

"One  cannot  beat  nature,  can  one,  when  it  comes  to 
color  ?  Why,  some  of  the  tints  on  our  house  are  the  love- 
liest things !  I  am  trying  to  coax  all  of  the  vines  and  run- 
ners to  go  decorously  over  windows,  doors  and  verandas 
only,  and  leave  those  beautiful  boards  free.  They  are  too 
beautiful  to  be  covered,"  she  said.  "Oh,  this  is  such  a 
wonderful  land !  I  can  never  get  over  my  joy  in  it  and 
my  thanksgiving  for  it.  When  I  look  at  my  big  fellow 
and  see  how  he  has  been  given  his  health  and  strength 
by  it,  I  feel  like  proclaiming  to  the  world  the  glad  tidings 
that  all  those  weary  and  heavy  laden  ones,  whose  lives 
are  given  over  to  one  long  struggle  for  existence  in  a  city, 
might  know  what  possibilities  this  land  holds  forth. ' ' 

"But,  Mrs.  Amerton,  surely  you  do  not  intend  to  re- 
main here,  after  your  husband's  health  is  quite  restored, 
do  you  ? ' '  inquired  Mrs.  Dorian. 

Dot  was  silent  for  a  moment,  looking  out  over  the  wa- 
ters, then  she  answered, — 

"Yes,  we  intend  to  make  this  our  home.  Always  my 
husband  has  longed  for  out-of-door  work  and  simplicity 
of  life.  The  complexities  and  struggles  of  the  life  in 
cities  has  been  his  horror,  but  he  settled  down  to  it  for 
my  sake  and  stuck  to  it  until  it  became  an  imperative 
necessity  to  give  it  up. ' ' 

"But  the  isolation  of  such  a  life  for  people  of  your 
intellectuality— now  if  it  was  in  Los  Angeles,  that  would 
be  different. ' ' 

Dot  laughed.  "Yes,  it  would.  But  can  you  tell  me 
how  people  are  to  be  truck  farmers  in  Los  Angeles  ?  We 
must  earn  our  living,  it  must  be  out-of-door  work  and  I 
do  not  know  of  any  way  to  combine  the  two  in  a  large 

143 


CHUMS 

city.  And  then,  when  all  is  said,  it  is  the  very  freedom 
of  our  life  here,  the  possibility  of  wearing  old  clothes, 
living  close  to  nature  and,  in  fact,  being  able  to  live  our 
lives  instead  of  being  coerced  into  living  the  general  life, 
by  being  neighbored,  that  appeals.  Why  do  you  know 
that  we  can  slip  our  rain  coats  over  our  bathing  suits 
and  run  down  for  a  dip  in  the  ocean,  mornings,  and  we 
can  at  all  times  feel  eminently  self-respecting  in  clothes 
that  would  create  a  scandal,  should  we  wear  them  in  a 
city.  Then,  as  for  being  isolated,  surely  with  electric 
cars  almost  at  your  door,  which  take  you  to  the  city  in 
half  or  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  you  cannot  call  it  be- 
ing isolated,  exactly.  And  oh,  the  peace  of  it. ' ' 

"Well  I,  for  one,  should  like  nothing  better,"  said 
Mary,  filling  Dot's  cup— "if  I  did  not  have  that  driven 
feeling,  I  think  I  was  marked  with  the  curse  of  what  is 
called  the  missionary  spirit.  Theodosia  is  not  quite  so 
polite,  she  tells  me  it  is  simply  my  desire  to  'boss  the 
job '  and  that,  as  I  am  not  allowed  to  do  much  of  that  in 
my  own  set,  I  go  down  to  the  slums  where  the  poor 
wretches  are  helpless,  and  that  I  take  an  unfair  advan- 
tage." 

This  sounded  so  like  Dosia  that  they  all  laughed. 

"When  did  you  see  her,  Miss  Tobin?"  Dot  inquired. 

"Last  October,  in  Paris.  She  is  still  with  the  'chums' 
and  they  really  do  live  a  delightful  life.  Theo  is  getting 
as  gray  as  the  proverbial  badger  and  fuller  of  vitality 
and  energy  every  year.  I  am  going  to  put  her  in  a  book 
some  day,  only  the  trouble  will  be  that  people  who  do 
not  know  her  will  think  I  have  created  the  character  out 
of  whole  cloth.  But  it  is  the  old  proposition,  'truth  is 
stranger  than  fiction.'  ' 

And  so  they  talked  on  until  the  clock  struck  the  half- 
hour  and  Dot  rose  to  go. 

"Will  you  both,  some  day  when  Mrs.  Dorian  feels 
equal  to  the  climb,  come  up  and  see  us  ?  I  want  to  show 
you  my  big  husband  arid  my  small  house  and  prove  to 

144 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

you  how  much  can  be  done  here  in  this  land  of  sunshine, 
in  a  few  months  only. ' ' 

Dot  arrived  at  the  gate  as  her  husband  came  in  sight 
down  the  hill,  and  waited  for  him. 

"Well,  my  butter-ball,  how  goes  it?"  he  asked,  kissing 
her. 

"The  reason  why,  I  cannot  tell,  etc.,"  she  answered, 
"Neil,  I  cannot  take  to  the  'Dorian,'  but  Mary's  a  dear 
and  I  have  had  a  jolly  little  visit.  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it  at  supper.  I  must  rush  a  bit  now,  for  I  stayed  longer 
than  I  intended  and  I  have  to  make  some  biscuits  for 
you.  I  suppose  you  're  hungry  ? ' ' 

"Could  eat  an  old  boot,"  he  answered.  "Want  me  to 
help?" 

"Yes,  you  can  make  the  salad  and  skim  the  cream, 
that's  a  dear!  the  table  is  set  and  I  will  have  supper 
ready  in  half  an  hour." 


It  was  one  afternoon  a  year  later  and  Mary  Tobin  was 
having  tea  with  Dot.  They  were  alone,  as  Mrs.  Dorian 
had  gone  to  the  city  on  shopping  bent  and  Neil  was  put- 
ting up  an  extra  crate  of  selected  vegetables  for  the  ho- 
tel. 

Mary  moved  about  restlessly,  and  Dot  said, — 

"What's  wrong,  Mary?" 

The  big  woman  shrugged  her  shoulders, — 

' '  Spring  fever.  Now  that  Ella  is  getting  well  and  does 
not  need  me  as  she  did  I  find  myself  longing  for  my  old 
work.  I've  had  too  long  a  rest,  but  it  has  been  a  lovely 
time  and  I  have  a  whole  note-book  full  of  data  for  the 
unbelievers  who  doubt  the  possibility  of  living  on  forty 
dollars  a  month,  and  when  I  go  back  I  shall  preach  the 
Land  of  Sunshine  to  the  multitudes." 

"What  will  Mrs.  Dorian  do  after  she  leaves  here?"  en- 
quired Dot. 

Mary  laughed  grimly.  "Well,  one  thing  that  she  won't 

145 


CHUMS 

do  is  that  very  thing.  She  hates  all  this,  you  know,  and 
only  gives  a  very  grudging  acknowledgment  of  its  bless- 
ings. Says  that  she  would  rather  live  in  a  fifth  floor 
back  and  cook  over  the  gas  than  live  here  in  the  most 
beautiful  spot  and  have  all  of  the  comforts  and  most  of 
the  luxuries.  She  is  not  ready  yet,  my  dear,  for  peace." 

"No,"  assented  Dot,  "I  think  I  have  never  known 
anyone  so  unready." 

"You  have  not  grown  to  care  for  her,  have  you?"  en- 
quired Mary. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Dot.  "She  is  not  an  affinity. 
Still  there  is  much  good  in  Ella,  only  she  belongs  to  the 
ones  who  have  to  be  disciplined  hard  before  they  learn 
their  lesson. 

I  am  glad  that  her  small  legacy  came  to  her  now  for  it 
will  give  her  a  chance  to  get  quite  well  before  she  has  to 
take  up  work,  and  will  provide  the  necessities  after,  so 
that  she  need  not  slave.  I  fear  that  her  voice  will  never 
again  be  what  it  was,  and  her  pride  is  so  great  that  rath- 
er than  be  one  of  the  great  class  of  ordinary  singers,  she 
will  teach.  She  is  very  beautiful,  Mary,  and  still  young. 
Probably  her  life  will  be  a  fortunate  one  after  all. ' ' 

"You  mean  that  she  may  marry  again,  and  all  that! 
No,  I  think  not.  The  experience  that  left  her  what  you 
know  her  was  too  bitter.  She  would  rather  be  free  to 
live  her  own  life.  I  doubt  greatly  if  any  amount  of 
wealth,  even  though  she  does  love  luxury,  would  tempt 
her  to  marry.  Some  day  I  will  tell  you  her  story  and 
you  will,  I  think,  judge  her  less  hardly. 

I  had  a  letter  from  Martha  Holding  today,  that  made 
me  very  anxious  to  get  back,  so  I  think  another  month 
will  see  me  in  New  York  at  the  old  work,  and  did  I  tell 
you  that  Miss  Allmish  is  going  with  me  ? ' ' 

"No,  really?    How  did  it  come  about?" 

"From  listening  to  my  tales  of  the  people  and  the 
work  to  be  done  amongst  them,  I  fancy. ' ' 

"Well,  I  am  glad.    It's  the  right  thing,  I  think,  and 

146 


A  CROSS  SECTION  OF  LIFE 

what  she  needs.  This  sitting  down  with  folded  hands  to 
mourn  over  the  sorrows  life  has  brought  is  a  poor  way  to 
get  over  the  sting  of  the  griefs. ' ' 

"You're  perfectly  happy,  Dot,  aren't  you?" 
"Absolutely,  Mary.  I  sometimes  am  frightened,  fear- 
ful to  admit  how  happy,  'lest  the  gods  may  hear.'  We 
have  successfully  settled  the  question  of  living;  we  are 
perfectly  reconciled  to  the  simplicity  of  our  life,  love  its 
work,  joy  in  its  pleasures,  and  are  absolutely  free  from 
any  ambition  to  do  what  is  called  'make  money'  if  to  do 
it  means  giving  up  our  precious  hours  to  grubbing  year 
in,  year  out,  until  we  lose  the  power  to  enjoy  it  when  it 
comes,  as  so  many  do. 

Mother  and  the  girls  mourn  over  my  case  in  a  most 
amusing  manner — appear  to  think  me  an  abject  slave 
and  to  be  referred  to  as  'poor  Dot.'  Funny,  is  it  not?" 


Once  more  the  tent  was  vacant.  Mary  had  gone  back 
to  her  beloved  slums. 

Mrs.  Dorian  had  taken  up  her  abode  in  Riverside  and 
Dot  and  Neil  had  come  over  to  take  away  the  few  things 
that  belonged  at  the  house,  and  sat  looking  out  at  the 
sunset. 

"Shall  we  take  down  the  tent,  honey,"  he  asked,  "or 
leave  it  on  the  chance  that  some  other  or  others  will  want 
to  'home'  in  it  awhile?" 

' '  Oh,  leave  it,  Neil.  It 's  so  pretty  now,  all  overgrown 
with  creepers,  and  has  a  little  story  of  its  own  and  we 
shall  have  the  fun  of  seeing  some  chapters  added,  I  feel 
sure." 

He  laughed  and  put  his  arm  about  the  small  figure  at 
his  side,— "A  very  mild  little  story,  Dot.  Not  a  bit  of 
tragedy  or  even  melodrama." 

"Neil,  I  am  so  self  reproachful,"  looking  up  at  him — 
* '  Yesterday  Mary  told  me  Mrs.  Dorian 's  story  and  I  could 
weep  when  I  think  that  I  did  not  know  it  all  before — 

147 


CHUMS 

talk  of  tragedy  and  melodrama !  Why,  that  is  just  what 
her  whole  life  has  been,  and  I,  small  fool  thing  that  I  am ! 
thought  her  cold  and  selfish  and  given  up  to  unnecessary 
grieving. 

I  have  learned  a  lesson.  I  never,  never  again  will  sit 
in  judgment  on  anyone  or  anything." 

Neil's  arm  held  her  closely  and  they  stood  looking  off 
across  the  waters  until  the  last  golden  flame  died  out  of 
the  sky.  Then,  in  the  fading  light,  they  walked  up  the 
hill  to  the  house. 


148 


Family  Gods 


A 


NNAD    ELOC    TO    KATHEBINE   MEDWAY, 

TOWANDA,  P.  A. 
DEAR  OLD  GIRL, — 

Yes,  I  know  I  quite  deserve  all  of  the 
bullying  your  last  letter  contained,  but 
when  you  hear  the  news  you  will  forgive 
me. 

Tanta  Sophia  passed  out  just  a  month 
ago,  as  we  wired  you,  as  tranquilly  as  she  had  lived,  and 
I  think  her  only  regret  was  that  all  of  the  old  things  she 
loved  could  not  go  with  her,  for  I  saw  here  eyes  roam 
from  one  old  piece  of  mahogany  to  another  and  there 
was  a  positive  pain  of  renunciation  in  them,  so  much  so 
that  I  took  it  upon  myself  to  say, — 

"Dear  Tanta,  Phil  and  I  will  never  let  a  single  thing 
go  out  of  our  hands  and  we  will  keep  them  beautifully, 
in  memory  of  you. ' ' 

She  gave  a  peaceful  little  smile  and  dropped  into  a 
sleep  that  had  no  awakening. 

We  buried  her  in  the  old  corner  lot  that  holds  so  many 
of  us  Van  Ordens,  and  Phil  and  I  came  quietly  back  to 
the  dear  old  house  which,  with  its  contents,  is  all  that  we 
have  in  the  world. 

Old  Mr.  Vortman  read  the  will  to  us  in  the  library  and 
I  shall  always  remember  the  picture  the  vines  made 
across  the  window,  with  all  of  the  new  spring  greenery 
making  dancing  lights  on  the  floor. 

He  knew  that  Tanta 's  income  died  with  her  and  that 
as  we  had  been  so  great  an  expense  to  the  dear  soul  she 
could  never  save  much  out  of  it ;  and  he,  of  course,  knew 
that  we  were  a  penniless  brood,  so,  in  his  kindly  way  he 
talked  with  and  questioned  us,  and  we,  Phil  and  I,  fairly 

149 


CHUMS 

falling  over  our  tongues,  unbosomed  to  him  our  hopes 
and  plans. 

He  was  very  kind  and  did  not  put  a  single  spoke  in  our 
wheels,  except  once,  and  that  was  to  dissuade  us  from 
selling  the  dear  old  place,  which  we  had  thought  we 
must  do ;  and  told  us  that  it  could  only  be  done  at  such 
a  sacrifice  of  dollars  and  feelings  that  he  thought  we 
would  better  lease  it  and  the  forty  acres  for  a  term  of 
years,  keeping  the  home  to  come  to  in  the  years  ahead 
when  we  would  want  it.  As  he  so  dearly  put  it, — 

' '  My  dears,  take  an  old  man 's  advice  and  keep  the  home 
where  six  generations  of  your  people  have  lived.  There 
are  certain  things  that  no  amount  of  money  can  buy, 
and  the  atmosphere  of  an  old  house  that  has  been  home 
to  so  many  of  one 's  people  is  one  of  those  things. ' ' 

So  it  was  decided  we  should  go  to  New  York,  as  we  so 
longed  to  do,  Phil  for  her  chance  at  newspaper  illustrat- 
ing, I  for  the  illuminating;  we  decided  to  take  enough 
of  the  precious  things  to  make  a  tiny  flat  home-like  and 
pretty,  and  the  other  dear  old  things  are  to  be  put  into 
the  old  "cobblestone  wing"  with  dear  Debby  to  care  for 
them,  until,  some  day  when  Phil  and  I  have  made  our 
reputations  and  fortunes,  we  shall  once  more  put  things 
in  their  old  places  and  be  chez  nous. 

All  of  which  being  done,  we  are  literally  in  our  new 
abode.  About  it  all  I  will  tell  you  in  my  next  letter,  but 
do  you  sit  you  down  and  write  me  about  everybody  and 
•everything. 

Am  burning  up  with  curiosity  to  know  what  Maxine 
has  decided  to  do,  now  she  is  graduated,  and  of  Tillie  and 
of  Paul. 

Do  not,  under  penalty  of  a  beating,  leave  out  a  scrap 
of  news. 

Yours  as  ever, 

ANNAD. 


150 


TOWANDA,  P.  A.,  April  26,  189— 
KATHERINE  MEDWAY  TO  ANNAD  ELOC. 
MY  DEAR  NAD,— 

Had  just  finished  the  baking  when  your  most  wel- 
come scrawl  arrived,  and  crimson  and  befloured  I  sat  me 
down  on  the  seat  under  the  willow  by  the  back  door  and 
read  it.  Oh,  you  lucky,  lucky  girl ! 

Poor  old  Tanta,  I  felt  awfully  sorry  for  her  to  have  to 
die  and  leave  all  those  treasures.  That  would  almost 
keep  me  in  the  body  in  spite  of  years,  I  think,  if  they 
were  mine,  and  I  could  just  see  the  look  on  her  face  when 
you  assured  her  you  would  keep  them  together,  for  I 
know  from  something  she  had  said  last  year  when  I  was 
there,  that  she  feared  you  girls  might  feel  that  you  must 
sell  them  as  you  had  no  money  and  she  knew  you  longed 
for  a  larger  life  and  for  Europe. 

So  as  I  read,  I  pictured  the  room,  that  great  low-ceiled 
room,  with  its  big  cheval,  with  its  carved  garlands  and 
fat  cherries,  the  big  four-post  bed  with  its  steps,  all  of 
the  ducky  little  tables  with  the  many  drawers,  the  big, 
carved  wardrobe,  where  we  youngsters  used  to  hide,  the 
wall  with  the  paper  your  grandfather  brought  over  from 
Holland,  that  funny  ridgy,  thick  paper,  with  the  Chinese 
pagodas  and  bridges  and  impossibly  beautiful  Chinese 
women,  and  the  great,  deep  west  window  as  big  as  most 
people's  rooms,  with  Tanta 's  desk  and  work-case  and 
huge  davenport.  And  other  pictures  of  other  rooms 
came  to  me,  all  filled  to  overflowing  with  lovely  old  things 
that  many  generations  of  your  nomad  ancestors,  with  a 
passion  for  collecting,  had  filled  and  filled  to  overflowing, 
—and  then  that  great  gray,  old  stone  house. 

And  I  found  myself  going  back  to  the  days  when  our 
brood  and  your  brood  used  to  overrun  the  place,  with 
gentle  Tanta  always  ready  to  tell  us  tales  of  the  days 
when  the  Van  Ordens  and  the  Elocs  were  a  rich  and 
great  family;  when  she,  dear  Tanta,  was  a  great  beauty 
and  a  belle  and  was  sent  to  Europe  to  complete  her  edu- 

151 


CHUMS 

cation,  as  were  all  of  the  youngsters  of  the  family,  as  a 
matter  of  course. 

I  can  remember  as  well  as  though  it  had  been  yester- 
day, one  rainy  day  when  we  brats  the  entire  eleven  of 
us  gathered  in  the  sitting-room  around  Tanta  and  begged 
stories,  and  more  stories,  and  how  the  dear  old  soul '  rem- 
inisced' and  took  us  back  to  the  gay  days  of  the  Second 
Empire,  the  balls  and  fetes,  the  coaching  parties  and  all 
of  the  frivol  and  delight  of  the  time.  How  the  pink  col- 
or came  to  her  cheeks  and  how  straight  she  sat  in  the  big 
carved  chair,  with  those  dear  old  tiny  hands,  with  their 
old  rings,  waving  and  motioning  as  she  talked. 

Do  you  remember  how  we  used  to  say  if  anything  hap- 
pened to  Tanta 's  hands,  she  would  straightway  lose  the 
power  of  speech,  they  were  so  necessary  to  her  in  ex- 
pressing ? 

Ah,  Nad  dear,  those  were  precious  times,  those  vaca- 
tions in  the  old  house,  and  I  simply  wept  for  joy  when  I 
read  that  you  were  not  going  to  sell  the  place.  Sell  it ! 
Why,  if  it  were  mine  I  would  work  myself  to  a  shadow 
rather  than  lose  it.  I  always  said  that  in  my  last  incar- 
nation I  was  a  Van  Orden,  I  love  with  such  fervor  the 
family  traditions  and  possessions,  and  for  some  sin  of 
omission,  probably  that  of  lack  of  appreciation  of  it,  that 
time,  I  was  born  this  time  the  oldest  child  of  a  poor  min- 
ister of  absolutely  unyielding  Puritanic  ideas,  who  would 
not  know  what  I  meant  should  I  by  chance  forget  myself 
so  far  as  to  talk  to  him  honestly  of  my  desires,  but  who 
would  feel  me  to  be  worldly  minded  to  the  degree  requir- 
ing to  be  wrestled  with  in  prayer.  i 

Heavens !  I  have  written  so  long  now  I  have  no  time 
to  answer  your  questions  in  this,  but  will  write  again  in 
a  few  days.  But,  oh  I  say !  what  ' '  a  small  piecie  brute ' ' 
you  were  to  stop  your  letter  where  you  did.  Write  me 
instanter  and  tell  me  every  living  thing !  Don't  you  leave 
out  so  much  as  a  salt-cellar. 

Lovingly, 

KATHIE. 
152 


FAMILY  GODS 

I  forgot  to  tell  you— Maxine  is  offered  a  position  as 
teacher  of  elocution  and  languages  at  Madame  W's,  so 
there  is  talk  of  her  being  in  New  York  by  September. 


MAY  IST,  NEW  YORK. 
ANNAD  TO  KATHERINE. 

Before  I  start  in  upon  an  account  of  our  move  and 
settling  I  want  to  say  how  we  "joyed"  in  the  news  of 
Max's  coming  to  New  York.  And  tell  her  not  to  think 
of  going  anywhere  else,  she  must  come  to  us,  and  when  I 
explain  to  you  how  nicely  we  can  manage  it  all,  you  will 
join  with  us  in  persuading  her.  Phil  just  looked  over 
my  shoulder  and  remarked, — 

"Persuade!  indeed  if  she  does  not  go  down  on  her 
knees  and  beg  to  be  taken  in,  she  can  go  and  live  in  a 
ten  by  six  hall  bedroom  and  'be  miserable  to  her',5' — 
which  she  says  I  am  to  let  her  know. 

Now  for  the  tale  of  our  move.  I  know  your  perfectly 
fiendish  joy  in  detail,  so  I  won't,  as  you  say,— "leave 
out  a  salt-cellar. ' ' 

"Well,  after  we  had  decided,  we  put  the  house  in  the 
hands  of  an  agent  and  whilst  waiting  for  the  new  ten- 
ant we  worked.  Worked,  did  I  say !  no,  toiled,  like  gal- 
ley slaves,  refusing  any  help  from  the  girls,  just  depend- 
ing on  Debby  who,  by  the  way,  is  a  perfect  piece  of  hu- 
man wreckage  owing  to  her  emotions  at  losing  us  and 
the  breaking  up  of  the  old  home  she  had  worked  in  so 
faithfully  for  forty  years. 

We  first  selected  what  we  wanted  to  take  to  furnish  the 
new  quarters  and  Phil  nearly  beat  me,  she  got  so  enraged 
over  it.  Really  it  did  seem  that  we  wanted  to  take  it  all, 
and  we  got  into  such  a  muddle  and  our  nerves  so 
"stringy"  as  Debby  said,  that  one  afternoon  when  we 
had  "see-sawed"  over  that  old  rosewood  chiffonier,  with 
all  the  drawers  and  cubby-holes,  first  to  take  it.  then  not 
to,  as  it  is  such  a  huge  thing,  we  both  declared  we  would 
just  give  up  the  plan  and  stay  home  where  we  could 

153 


CHUMS 

have  everything  about  us,  and  Debby,  who  always  assist- 
ed at  the  decisions  with  an  anguished  expression,  was 
drying  her  eyes  and  looking  happy,  when  Mr.  Vortman 
came  in  with  the  mail.  Amongst  it  was  a  letter  from  the 
agent,  saying  that  he  had  a  prospective  client  and  would 
bring  him  out  the  following  day. 

Then  we  told  Mr.  Vortman  and  he  laughed  a  little  at 
us  in  his  dear  old  tender  way,  talked  to  us  very  reason- 
ably for  awhile  and  finally  suggested,  as  a  way  of  settling 
the  furniture  question,  that  we  go  to  New  York  and  find 
our  flat,  then  write  out  a  list  of  the  things  we  needed  and 
he  would  aid  Debby  in  packing  and  sending,  and  would 
see  that  all  of  the  other  things  were  put  in  the  cobble 
wing  where  Debby  is  to  live  and  where  the  dear  old  thing 
can  fuss  over  them  to  her  heart's  content,  until  that 
happy  time  when  we  all  flock  back. 

So  after  meeting  our  new  tenant  the  following  day  and 
arranging  a  lease  of  five  years,  we,  Phil  and  I,  pretty 
weepily  said  good  bye  and  left  for  New  York,  with  our 
trunks  and  dressing  bags. 

You  know  the  funny  form  unhappiness  takes  with 
Phil,  how  absolutely  dumb  she  gets.  Well,  for  the  whole 
day  from  eight  in  the  morning  until  ten-thirty  at  night 
she  just  sat  and  glared  out  of  the  window  and  I  let  her 
alone,  for  to  tell  the  truth  I  was  feeling  a  good  bit  mis- 
erable myself,  in  spite  of  a  queer  little  excitement  and 
anticipation,  which  I  rather  hated  to  encourage,  it  seemed 
so  heartless. 

We  were  both  very  glad  to  get  to  our  beds,  which  we 
did  about  eleven-thirty,  and  where  do  you  think?  Why 
at  the  nice  old  Murray  Hill,  just  near  the  depot,  where 
Daddy  always  took  us  when  he  gave  us  a  week  in  town, 
and  the  fact  that  old  Anthony  knew  us  and  looked  after 
us,  gave  us  a  sort  of  comfy  feeling  so  that  after  we  had 
tubbed  and  were  having  what  Debby  calls  a  "snack," 
Phil  got  over  her  dumbness  a  bit  and  we  planned  to  be 
up  early  and  go  house-hunting. 

154 


FAMILY  GODS 

We  awakened  at  just  eleven  o'clock  and  heaven  only 
knows  if  we  should  have  awakened  then,  if  the  house- 
maid had  not  knocked,  and  the  way  we  jumped  into  our 
clothes  was  a  caution,  so  that  by  twelve  o'clock  we  were 
ready  for  breakfast-lunch,  which  we  had  in  our  rooms,  so 
as  not  to  lose  any  more  time. 

We  took  a  cab  and  went  to  the  first  of  the  eight  ad- 
dresses we  had.  No  success,  altogether  too  fashionable 
and  overpowering,  with  its  inlaid  marble  and  brass  and 
"portier,"  so  we  did  not  even  go  up.  Second,  worse,  if 
anything.  Third,  same.  Fourth,  same.  Fifth — Sixth — 
when  we  commenced  to  look  at  each  other  aghast.  Fi- 
nally, after  driving  seemingly  for  miles,  cabby  opened 
the  trap  and  said, — 

"Sure  Miss,  I  think  it's  in  there," — pointing  to  what 
looked  like  an  embowered  and  idealized  alley,  which  had 
a  chain  across  it,  so  that  no  wagons  could  get  in. 

He  drew  up  to  the  curb  and  we  got  out  on  a  modest 
old  street  filled  with  real  old  houses,  and  crossing  the 
pavement  we  went  past  the  chain  into  the  little  street, 
only  about  twenty-five  feet  wide,  I  think,  lined  on  both 
sides  with  red  brick  houses,  two-stories-and-an-attic,  with 
old  iron  balconies,  flower  boxes,  trees  and  a  generally 
clean  and  old-world  look,  like  pictures  I  have  seen  of 
German  towns,  every  stone  and  brick  looking  as  though 
it  had  been  scrubbed. 

We  were  so  delighted  we  pinched  each  other  to  see  if  it 
were  not  a  dream,  as  we  stood  on  the  very  white  stone 
steps  of  No.  10 's  front  stoop. 

I  know,  now,  what  stoops  are  and  why.  Inlaid  in  the 
front  door,  which  was  painted  an  olive  green  and  had  a 
real  brass  knob,  was  a  little  circular  window  with  a  white 
scrim  curtain,  trimmed  with  white  crocheted  lace,  of  an 
immaculateness  no  words  can  describe,  and  partly  drawn 
aside  so  that  visitors  could  be  inspected  before  the  door 
was  opened. 

I  am  sure  that  our  expression  of  mingled  rapture  and 

155 


CHUMS 

surprise  was  understood  and  taken  to  mean  what  it  was, 
— appreciation  of  the  beautiful  freshness  and  charm  of 
it  all,— for  the  door  opened  wide  and  Frau  Sloter  stood 
before  us. 

I  could  have  hugged  her  on  the  spot  and  I  know  that 
Phil  was  absently  hunting  her  sketch-book.  Imagine  a 
woman  of  fifty-odd,  medium  height,  very  stout,  very 
blonde,  with  a  high  color,  and  dressed  in  a  short  woolen 
skirt,  a  blue-and-white  striped  loose  jacket,  a  big  white 
apron,  white  kerchief  around  her  neck,  a  cap  of  white 
net  on  her  thick,  kinky,  whitey-blond  hair,  and  the  big- 
gest, jolliest  mouth  ever  the  Lord  gave  to  a  human  being. 

I  finally  realized  that  no  one  was  saying  anything,  so 
I  explained  our  errand,  told  her  we  had  gone  to  six  other 
places,  were  tired  and  discouraged  and  had  begun  to 
think  that  our  desire  for  a  home  would  have  to  be  ac- 
commodated to  the  modern  apartment  house,  which  we 
did  not  want  and  could  not  afford,  until  we  had  found  at 
long  last  this  oasis  in  the  desert,  and  then  I  forget  what 
I  said, — Phil  swears  I  flung  myself  on  the  Frau's  neck 
and  wept. 

At  any  rate  a  half -hour  later  we  were  installed  in  the 
Frau's  kitchen,  which  opened  into  a  dear  back  yard, 
planted  in  the  most  approved  Dutch  fashion,  not  an  inch 
wasted,  with  two  heavenly  linden  trees  in  all  their  spring 
green,  little  beds  of  lettuce  and  radishes  and  onions,  and 
sweet  peas,  nasturtiums  and  vines  of  all  sorts  all  over  the 
walls,  or  will  be  soon.  We  were  drinking  coffee,  eating 
such  coffee-cake  as  dreams  are  made  of,  telling  Frau  S. 
all  about  everything  from  our  birth  on,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  weeks,  happy. 

Heavens!  what  a  manuscript  of  a  letter.  I  will  tell 
you  the  rest  of  it  next  time,  simply  must  close  it  now,  for 
I  am  to  have  a  lesson  in  German  from  Franz,  Frau's 
second  son,  and  as  he  is  so  good  I  do  not  want  to  keep 
him  waiting. 

Will  write  in  a  few  days.  Phil  and  I  are  both  well  and 

156 


FAMILY   GODS 

she  went  to  the  Leader's  office  this  morning,  but  if  it  is 
possible  she  wants  to  have  the  work  home,  as  I  do.    Then 
we  can  truly  live  a  studio  life. 
Love  to  you  all. 

"NAD." 


MAY  5-TH,  — 
KATHERINE  TO  ANNAD. 

Now  you  need  not  for  one  minute,  Annad  Atier  Eloc, 
think  that  your  letter  is  quickly  answered  because  I  love 
you,— could  you  see  into  my  heart  and  see  how  it  seethes 
with  sheer  mad!  No,  but  all  fun  aside,  that  was  abso- 
lutely brutal  of  you  to  stop  your  letter  where  you  did, 
after  I  had  worked  myself  up  to  a  pitch  of  excitement 
that  prevented  my  bringing  my  cherries  to  a  jell.  Then 
to  find  that  the  letter  closed  without  a  word  of  the  rooms 
and  the  arrangement,  and  what  you  pay  and  how  you 
live !  Truly,  words  fail  me.  When  the  girls  came  home 
and  hunted  me  up  in  the  pantry,  struggling  with  my 
spoiled  jelly,  I  just  handed  the  letter  to  Max,  and  Tillie 
and  the  ' '  brats ' '  perched  up  on  the  sugar  and  flour  bar- 
rels whilst  she  read  it  and  I  felt  myself  a  cool,  composed, 
unexcitable  person  when  I  compared  myself  to  them  as 
they  reached  the  sentence,  "I  really  must  close  it  now, 

for" .    Max  looked  blankly  at  me,  the  girls  jumped 

down  and  ran  to  see  if  it  really  was  the  end— and  then 
they  said  things,  and  you  know  what  it  is  like  when  they 
are  all  taken  that  way  at  once. 

I  simply  had  to  sit  down  on  the  big  cruller  box,  I  was 
so  weak  from  laughter.  They  are  now  out  in  the  orchard, 
writing  to  you  collectively,  and  I  will  just  tell  you  right 
here  and  now  I  have  grave  suspicions  of  this  Franz's 
motives.  German  lessons  indeed!  Why,  you've  read 
German  for  years.  He  is  undoubtedly  a  sly  German  and 
has  learned  that  your  mother  was  a  Van  Orden  and  that 
Uncle  Theodore  is  a  multi-millionaire,  and  thinks  that  it 

157 


CHUMS 

would  be  a  good  family  to  marry  into.     I  shall  write  to- 
Phil  and  see  what  she  thinks.    You  are  such  a  child. 

Well,  I  did  think  that  I  would  pay  you  back  in  your 
own  coin,  but  as  Dithie  says,  ' '  Really,  you  know  the  best 
people  do  not  do  that. ' ' 

I  will  tell  you  our  news,  for  I  feel  certain  that  the  girls 
will  be  so  interested  in  being  scathingly  ironical  and 
openly  jeering,  that  they  will  either  leave  it  out  or  skimp 
the  telling.  "We  have  sold  the  farm :  that  is,  all  but  the 
ten-acre  meadow  lot,  the  birch  wood  and  the  six  acres 
directly  around  the  house,  and  to  Mr.  Farringdon,  the 
rich  man  who  is  buying  up  all  of  the  country  he  can  get 
his  hands  on  in  order  to  make  the  tract  of  land  and  that 
huge  barrack  of  a  place  he  has  built  more  like  an  ' '  Eng- 
lish Estate." 

And  now  we  have  the  nest  egg  that  I  promised  the 
girls,  if  we  ever  had  it,  should  give  them  a  chance  to  go 
to  New  York.  So,  my  dear,  in  September  you  will  see 
us  all  there. 

Of  course  silly,  sentimental  "Kathie"  is  finding  it 
hard,  but  we  shall  do  what  you  girls  have  done,  keep  the 
old  home  for  a  nest  to  fly  to  in  times  of  stress  or  hungri- 
ness  for  the  ' '  really  wilds. ' ' 

Ah,  Nad,  I  can  hardly  believe  it  when  I  look  in  the 
glass,  that  I  seem  yet  young,  for  these  years  since  Fath- 
er's passing,  filled  as  they  have  been  with  the  responsi- 
bility of  bringing  up  these  five  girls,  of  being  father, 
mother,  everything;  of  making  small,  you  know  how 
small,  means  give  them  the  education,  the  instruction 
that  was,  I  recognized,  a  necessity  for  the  talented  dear 
things,  to  tone  down  Max,  buoy  up  Tillie,  comfort  sensi- 
tive Paul,  keep  the  brats,  bless  'em,  in  proper  subjection 
and  incidentally  in  "entire  articles  of  clothing." 

Ah,  but,  me  dear,  it  has  been  a  bit  of  a  fight— many 's 
the  time.  And  now  that  they  are  about  ready  to  take  up 
work  for  themselves  and  need  a  wide  field,  this  is  very 
opportune,  this  chance  to  sell  the  place.  Why,  we  might 

158 


FAMILY  GODS 

have  waited  until  we  were  gray  for  any  of  the  farmers 
in  the  neighborhood  to  buy  it,  so  if  Mr.  F.  never  does 
another  thing  in  his  life,  he  has  done  much  in  giving  five 
—no  six,— I  count  still  as  a  girl,  don't  I?— the  oppor- 
tunity to  carry  out  their  heart 's  desires,  although  he  has 
done  it  unconsciously,  as  I  doubt  if  the  good  man  knows 
us  by  sight. 

It  will  be,  I  think,  about  the  twentieth  of  August  that 
we  shall  leave,  as  Max  must  be  there  for  the  opening  of 
school  in  September,  and  we  shall  write  to  you  next  time 
about  the  things  we  want  you  to  do  for  us,  you  old  New 
Yorkers. 

Love  to  you, 

KATHIE. 


MAY  HTH, — 
DEAREST  KATHIE  MINE, — 

Forgive  me  this  once,  and  I  promise  never,  never  again 
to  do  it,  or  not  to  do  it,  as  it  was  a  sin  of  omission,  was  it 
not?  And  to  prove  my  contrition  and  in  deference  to 
your  known  liking  for  sequence,  I  will  commence  as  near- 
ly as  possible  where  I  broke  off  the  offending  letter,  al- 
though, these  eleven  days,  such  heaps  of  things  have  hap- 
pened. 

Let  me  see, — I  think  we  were  having  coffee  in  the 
Frau's  kitchen,  and  by-the-by  I  must  describe  that  kitch- 
en before  I  go  any  farther. 

It  is  about  two  feet  below  the  level  of  the  garden,  and 
is  bricked  with  red  bricks,  which,  my  dear,  get  reddened 
weekly.  It  has  an  old  fashioned  fireplace,  part  open 
grate,  part  shut  up,  and  covered  over  with  all  kinds  of 
ovens  and  resting  places  of  iron,  and  the  back  is  filled  in 
with  tiles— altogether  the  fetchingest  thing  I  ever  saw, 
and  it  is  an  exact  replica  of  the  one  in  the  Frau's  old 
home.  The  various  hooks,  pot-chains,  and  bellows,  shov- 
el, tongs,  poker  and  scuttle  are  the  same,  all  wrought 

159 


CHUMS 

brass  and  copper  and  belonged  to  her  great  grandmother. 
Truly  my  mouth  waters  every  time  I  see  them. 

The  long  table  is  on  a  sort  of  trestle,  massive  and 
carved  at  the  ends,  and  is  of  oak,  but  so  old  that  it  is 
nearly  black.  There  are  two  big  dressers,  also  oak,  black, 
carved,  with  an  array  of  old  plates,  platters,  cups  and 
saucers,  bowls  and  jugs  that  Phil  simply  sits  in  front  of 
in  unashamed  worship.  Truly,  I  think  the  youngest  of 
them  is  a  gray  cracked  bowl  that  has  funny  blue-green 
designs  on  it  and  that  Frau  says  was  a  part  of  her  moth- 
er's outfit. 

There  is  a  funny  table  with  a  kneading-board  and  sort 
of  trough  attached,  and  there  are  old  brass  and  copper 
pots,  pans  and  bowls  all  about. 

Twro  windows  and  a  door  look  into  the  back  yard, 
which  is  two  steps  up.  At  the  windows  there  are  cur- 
tains with  ball  fringe  and  knitted  lace,  held  back  with 
a  knitted  cord.  There  are  wide  window  ledges  and  pots 
of  flowers,  and  my  dear,  my  dear,  there  are  windows  that 
open  in— small  casement  ones.  Is  that  not  a  picture  for 
you?  Scattered  about  are  a  lot  of  squatty,  carved  oak 
chairs  with  cushions  of  patchwork,  and  as  it  is  used  for 
dining-room  as  well  as  kitchen,  there  are  strips  of  rag 
carpet  about  and  everything  is  spick,  span  and  shining 
as  though  it  was  "Exhibit  A,  old-time  room  in  a  Dutch 
farm  house, "  in  a  museum. 

The  front  of  the  basement,  where  most  people  would 
have  put  their  living-room,  is  used  for  wood  and  coal  and 
wash-house,  because  it  was  the  back  that  had  the  garden, 
and  so  must  have  "the  room." 

Well,  to  get  back  to  our  coffee.  Before  we  had  that  we 
followed  Frau  up  three  flights  of  stairs,  through  two 
shining  spotless  oilclothed  halls  to  the  attic ! 

Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear,  to  think  that  our  good  luck,  or 
the  fates,  or  whatever  it  is,  should  have  sent  us  there ! 

Imagine  four  low-ceiled,  dormer-windowed  rooms, 
opening  into  a  wide  hall  with  a  long  skylight  and  a 

160 


FAMILY  GODS 

chimney!— which  can,  at  comparatively  small  expense, 
be  opened,  bricked  and  grated,— two  dormer  windows 
opening  on  to  a  projection  of  the  story  below,  which 
forms  a  balcony,  and  remember  that  the  stairs  are  en- 
closed. 

Can't  you  just  see  what  a  duck  of  a  studio  and  living- 
room  that  hall  will  make?  Off  from  it,  the  four  rooms 
open  simply,  one  after  the  other.  In  the  back  one  is  a 
sink,  shut  in,  and  in  each  are  big  closets. 

The  middle  room  is  to  be  bath  and  dressing-room,  with 
running  water  piped  from  kitchen.  Back  of  a  rose 
chintz  curtain  is  our  "next  to  Godliness"  outfit.  Then 
the  other  two  rooms  will  be  our  bedroom-dens,  the  places 
where  we  can  go  and  turn  the  key  when  we  do  not  wish 
to  be  sociable. 

As  to  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms  and  furnishing, 
that  I  will  leave  until  next  letter,  for  I  must  chat  a  bit 
with  you  over  all  of  the  news  in  yours  and  the  girls'  let- 
ters. 

Of  course,  if  you  all  come  to  New  York  that  simply 
means  Paradise  for  Phil  and  me ;  and  if  you  do,  can  you 
not  take  a  house  and  board  our  kids  for  us?  "We  want 
them  awfully,  and  can't  have  them  here  with  us,  but  if 
you  are  all  to  be  here  that  settles  the  matter,  does  it  not  ? 
And  if  it  does,  I  know  the  house,  and  it's  only  two  doors 
away,  and  will  be  vacant  in  August.  Very  similar  in  ar- 
rangement to  this:  four  big  rooms  and  a  hall  on  each 
floor,  two  stories  and  an  attic,  and  a  love  of  a  garden  with 
five  beautiful  trees  in  it,— I  never  thought  that  I  should 
be  saying  "a  house  with  five  trees  in  its  back  yard,"  we 
have  been  so  used  to  "woods  with  a  house."  But  after 
you  have  been  about  New  York  as  much  as  I  have  in  the 
last  few  weeks,  you  will  come  to  feel  a  distinct  glow  of 
pride  in  your  five  trees. 

Yes,  truly,  Kathie,  you  are  in  luck  to  be  able  to  find  a 
purchaser  for  the  farm,  and  now  you  can  all  carry  out 
the  plans  you  have  made  so  often.  In  fact,  we  all  can  do 

161 


CHUMS 

a  bit  of  carrying  out,  and,  best  of  all,  we  shall  be  to- 
gether. 

I  went  past  Madame  W 's  where  Max  goes  in  Sep- 
tember: it  was  very  inspiringly  prosperous,  and  I  saw 
several  exceedingly  smart  looking  maids  waiting  to  escort 
their  "young  ladies"  home,  and  of  course  everyone 
knows  that  it  is  the  very  ' '  swaggerest "  finishing  school 
here,  so  Max  ought  to  get  a  good  salary. 

You  have  not  said  a  word  about  Tillie.  Are  you  wor- 
rying about  the  pretty  thing,  Kathie?  Don't,  dear. 
Beauty  such  as  hers  is  a  great  blessing,  believe  me,  and 
the  little  airs  and  graces  and  discontents  will  work  out, 
for  the  dear  thing  is  so  lovable  and  truly  good  under  it 
all. 

Paul  is,  as  you  once  said,  not  nineteen,  but  ninety-nine. 
The  force  and  steadiness  that  girl  shows  is  remarkable, 
and  she  loves  responsibility  so, — do  let  her  have  more  of 
it.  You  have  been  the  head  so  long  that  it  is  all  second 
nature  and  you  forget  the  girls  are  grown  up  and,  even 
adoring  you  as  they  do,  must  sometimes  fret  against  the 
tight  rein  you  draw. 

If  you  don't  tell  on  me,  I  will  sometime  show  you  a 
letter  the  ' '  brats ' '  sent  me  last  week.  I  laugh  every  time 
I  think  of  it,  but  I  would  not  for  worlds  have  them  think 
me  ' '  leaky ' '  as  they  so  cheekily  put  it. 

Phil  is  sending  you  a  line  and  wants  me  to  enclose  it. 

Love  to  all, 

"NAD." 

P.  S.  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  by  such  a  sugges- 
tion about  Frau's  son  Franz — why,  he  is  just  a  mechanic, 
a  metal  worker,  artistic,  yes!  and  extremely  well  up  in 
his  line,  but  a  workman  pure  and  simple,  although  bet- 
ter educated  and  far  better  read  than  most  so-called  gen- 
tlemen. He  has  been  so  good  about  helping  me  with  the 
German  and  he  speaks  such  a  beautiful  German  himself, 
and  is  so  deferential,  so  very  respectful,  that  I  am  cer- 

162 


FAMILY  GODS 

tain  that  no  such  thought  for  a  moment  would  enter  his 
handsome  head.  N, 


MAY  17TH,  — 
NAD  DEAR,— 

Your  letter  arrived  this  minute,  and  although  I  am 
literally  up  to  my  eyes  in  work,  I  shall  just  drop  every- 
thing and  answer  it. 

First  as  to  your  youngsters  joining  my  youngsters  in 
the  housekeeping  plan:  yes,  it  is  a  capital  idea  and  the 
girls  were  wild  with  joy  when  I  read  it  to  them.  So  we 
can  consider  that  settled  and  later  on  arrange  as  to  de- 
tails, house,  move,  expense  and  so  on. 

What  you  wrote  about  Paul  and  that  little  sentence 
"you  forget  that  the  girls  are  grown  up,"  etc.,  has  giv- 
en me  cause  for  thought,  likewise  a  heartache.  The 
heartache  I  shall  presently  rip  to  tatters  and  find  out 
how  much  is  hurt  vanity  and  pride,  and  how  much  plain 
ache,  but  have  not  the  time  just  now. 

Yes,  Paul  is  ready  for  responsibility,  the  dear  strong, 
kind,  capable  thing,  and  I  will  try  to  let  her  take  some. 
And  really  Nad,  now  that  you  have  opened  my  eyes  a 
bit,  I  see  that  I  have  been  selfish  and  a  good  deal  of  a 
petty  tyrant, — in  a  nice  sort  of  way — and  have  tried  to 
keep  the  whole  brood  under  a  metaphorical  coop,  as  I  do 
biddy  and  her  chicks  long  after  those  chicks  are  too  big 
to  get  in  comfortably  under  the  slats.  But,  oh,  I  have 
tried  so  hard  to  do  everything  for  them  that  mother  and 
father  would  have  done,  and  in  doing  it  have  forgotten 
that  the  years  have  slipped  away  and  the  little  things  are 
big  things.  So  when  we  arrive  in  New  York  I  will  loos- 
en the  rein  and  let  each  do  her  share. 

I  am  most  curious  to  know  what  those  brats  have  writ- 
ten you.  I  have  known  for  some  time  that  they  were  re- 
penting something  in  sack-cloth  and  ashes,  but  I  never 
force  their  confidences.  Their  repentance  always,  as  you 
remember,  takes  the  form  of  wanting  to  do  the  things 

163 


CHUMS 

they  most  dislike  doing  ordinarily.  So  the  zeal  with 
which  they  have  washed  dishes,  cleaned  silver,  practised, 
and  turned  and  hemmed  some  sheets  that  have  waited  in 
the  linen  room  for  months  for  the  doing,  of  course  quick- 
ly told  me  something  was  up,  and  then  they  have  taken  to 
telling  me  I  look  just  lovely,  and  what  beautiful  hair  I 
have,  and  so  on — I  suppose  soon  I  shall  hear  all  about  it 
from  them. 

Yes,  it  does  seem  as  though  Max  had  found  a  very 
good  opening  and  the  hours  are  good,  with  no  home  work, 
so  that  really  she  will  have  as  much  freedom  and  time 
to  herself  as  is  good  for  her.  You  know  how  I  believe  in 
plenty  of  work.  I  do  not  say  that  work  that  one  loves  is 
not  a  deal  sight  jollier  than  work  that  one  dislikes,  but  I 
do  believe  in  work.  The  salary  is  good,  although  not  re- 
markable. 

I  confess  I  do  bother  a  bit  about  Tillie,  she  is  so  ex- 
traordinarily good  to  look  at.  Why,  last  week  when  I 
took  her  to  town  to  do  some  shopping,  "everything  in 
trousers"  from  the  ragged  newsboy  to  the  lordly  being 
who  ushers  you  in  at  W  's  stared  at  her  as  though  she  was 
something  in  the  way  of  a  sight,  and  I  distinctly  do  not 
like  her  manner  of  receiving  all  this,  but  I  feel  helpless 
and  oh,  won't  I  be  glad  to  have  the  child  safely  married! 
I  tell  you,  Nad,  I  am  afraid  of  the  responsibility.  Love- 
ly as  the  child  is,  and  gentle  and  soft  apparently,  there  is 
a  whole  lot  of  sheer  mulish  obstinacy  and  selfishness  that 
I  have  struggled  with  and  against  ever  since  she  was  a 
beautiful  baby :  and  I  will  tell  you,  Nad,  although  I  have 
never  admitted  it  to  anyone  else,  every  time,  even  in 
those  days,  she  downed  me,  simply  wore  me  out.  And  if 
ever  there  was  a  re-embodied  spirit  it  is  there ;  I  am  cer- 
tain that  that  beautiful  great-aunt  of  mother's,  for 
whom  she  is  named  and  whom  three  generations  have 
whispered  about  and  over,  is  looking  at  me  from  those 
wonderful  hazel  eyes. 

You  know  how  marvelously  like  the  miniature  she  is, 

164 


even  to  that  queer  curl  that  grows  so  low  on  the  right 
temple.  And  you  likewise  know  what  a  devil  of  selfish- 
ness and  iniquity  ' '  La  belle  Tante ' '  was,  that  same  beau- 
tiful Hortillia  Van  Orden,  so  do  you  wonder  I  fear  ? 

We  are,  as  you  can  imagine,  having  great  powwows 
over  our  possessions  and  with  no  Debby  to  help  us— but 
likewise  no  such  wealth  of  heavenly  treasures  as  you  had 
to  debate  over.  With  us,  it  is  principally  that  every- 
thing is  mostly  too  old  and  too  shabby  to  take.  Our  only 
treasures  are  the  books  and  pictures. 

Oh,  I  want  to  tell  you  whilst  I  think  of  it,  we  had  a 
call  from  Mr.  Farringdon,  the  purchaser  of  the  farm,  the 
very  day  I  sent  that  last  letter,  and  he  is  as  different  in 
every  way  from  what  we  had  thought  him  as  it  is  possible 
to  be.  The  girls  took  a  great  fancy  to  him.  They  sim- 
ply took  possession  of  him  on  his  second  call  and  insisted 
upon  showing  him  all  of  our  favorite  nooks  and  begged 
him  not  to  cut  down  any  trees,  or  dam  up  the  creek  as 
they  had  heard  he  was  going  to  do.  All  of  which  he 
seemed  to  find  highly  amusing  and  when  they  finally 
brought  him  home  to  tea  and  he  seemed  to  want  to  stay,  I 
made  him  as  comfortable  as  possible. 

He  is,  I  think,  a  very  lonely  man  and  his  eyes  have  the 
look  of  a  hungry  dog  who  has  been  beaten  and  abused. 
There  is  some  story  back  of  it  all,  I  feel  certain.  But  I 
likewise  feel  certain  there  is  nothing  discreditable  to  him 
in  it.  I  would  stake  anything  I  had  on  that. 

After  tea  we,  he  and  I,  strolled  down  to  the  alders 
and  sat  on  the  old  log  awhile;  the  moon  was  just  rising 
and  you  know  what  an  exquisite  place  it  is  in  the  moon- 
light. 

He  seemed  very  interested  in  hearing  about  father, 
and  when  he  came  the  next  day,and  in  fact  each  day,  he 
has  been  taken  up  with  the  books,  which  he  says  are 
mostly  very  fine  editions.  He  tells  us  to  keep  them  care- 
fully ;  but,  if  at  any  time  we  should  decide  to  sell  them, 
to  give  him  the  opportunity  to  buy  them.  Sell  our  prec- 

165 


CHUMS 

ions  books  that  have  come  down  to  us  many  of  them  from 
grandfather — we  would  all  of  us  rather  go  out  as ' '  scrub- 
ladies"! 

I  fancy  I  must  have  expressed  myself  rather  strongly, 
for  he  dropped  the  subject. 

We  all  went  over  to  tea  with  him  on  Thursday ;  oh,  my 
dear,  my  dear,  my  fingers  fairly  itched  to  re-arrange 
things.  The  place  has  great  possibilities  and  is  like  a 
museum,  filled  with  treasures,  which  seem  to  be  really 
fine,  but,  from  something  Mr.  F.  said,  evidently  he  knows 
only  about  books  and  that  is  a  passion  with  him. 

He  loves  everything  that  is  artistic  and  interesting  and 
I  have  got  the  fancy  that  this  huge  fortune  he  is  accred- 
ited with  having  is  new  to  him  and  he  has  just  bought 
"everything  in  sight"  as  the  brats  would  say.  He  has 
been  starved,  my  dear,  just  starved  for  life's  pleasant 
things,  affection  and  companionship  included.  Some  day 
he  will  tell  me  all  about  it.  I  think  several  times  he  has 
been  quite  near  to  it. 

The  house  is,  as  you  remember,  a  mammoth  ugly  place, 
but  so  wonderfully  situated  that  with  some  taste  and 
plenty  of  money  it  could  be  made  lovely— now  it  is  a 
great,  bare,  lonely-looking  place. 

I  forgot  that  he  was  almost  a  stranger,  in  fact,  we  all 
did  and  in  our  characteristic  way  we,  individually  and 
collectively,  rearranged  things  to  please  ourselves. 

I  changed  the  interior,  Max  threw  out  balconies  and 
added  turrets,  Tillia  landscape-gardened,  Paul  conserva- 
toried,  grape-housed  and  kitchen-gardened,  the  twins 
built  gymnasiums  and  a  swimming-tank,  tennis  courts 
and  golf  links,  and  we  enjoyed  ourselves  most  thorough- 
ly, as  usual,  until  the  dear  man  must  have  thought  us  a 
lot  of  bedlamites.  But  he  only  beamed  and  looked  warm 
and  comfy,  and  when  the  brats  said, — 

"Is  it  not  too  hateful,  Mr.  Farringdon,  that  just  now 
when  you  need  us  so  much,  we  have  to  leave  ? "  he  roared, 
and  answered, — 

166 


FAMILY  GODS 

' '  New  York  is  not  far  off  and  I  shall  expect  you  all  to 
come  often  and  help  me  carry  out  some  of  these  plans." 

The  place  is  overrun  with  city  servants  who  are  not, 
I  think,  good— another  thing  I  nearly  had  to  bite  my 
tongue  in  two  to  keep  from  speaking  of — but  I  felt  that 
there  must  be  a  limit  to  criticism.  When  we  know  him 
better,  I  shall  give  him  a  hint  or  two. 

I  had  quite  a  queer  feeling  as  we  stood  on  the  terrace 
waiting  a  moment  to  see  the  moon  rise  over  old  "Thatch 
Top,"  before  going  home,  as  though  I  was  leaving  some- 
thing that  belonged  to  me ;  now  did  you  ever  hear  of  such 
a  silly  thing  ? 

All  this  packing  up,  this  breaking  of  the  habits  of 
years  is  playing  havoc  with  my  common  sense. 

All  love  to  you, 

KATHIE. 

P.  S.  I  was  so  busy  telling  you  about  us,  that  I  did 
not  comment  on  your  letter,  but,  Nad,  such  sheer  luck  I 
never  heard  of  and  I  have  in  my  mind's  eye  already  ad- 
justed every  piece  of  that  precious  old  furniture  of  Tan- 
ta's,  hung  all  the  pictures,  put  the  pet  bits  of  porcelain 
and  carving  in  their  respective  cabinets,  the  books  on  the 
shelves  and  those  glorious  old  rugs  on  the  floors.  I  won- 
der if  I  shall  ever  possess  "fine  old  rugs";  for  some  quite 
unaccountable  reason  they  appeal  to  me  almost  more 
than  anything.  I  feel  what  you  call  their  atmosphere 
and  a  hundred  pictures  flash  before  me,  of  the  life  of 
those  far  away  people  and  times;  and  I  am  not  given  to 
being  imaginative — you  know  how  you  girls  have  always 
hooted  at  me  about  that.  K. 


KATHIE  DEAR,— 

I  feel  the  prophetic  spirit  upon  me,  shall  I  proph.  a 
bit?  No,  best  not— I  will  instead  later  say  in  that  mad- 
dening way  Marion  Kalstead  has, — 

"I  felt  that  from  the  first." 

167 


CHUMS 

Can  quite  well  imagine  what  a  time  you  are  all  having 
with  your  brood,  and  I  shiver  to  think  what  enormities 
the  brats  will  perpetrate,  if  you  let  your  eye  off  them  for 
a  minute  the  last  day. 

You  will  probably  find  Micky's  puppy  and  the  oldr 
lame,  tailless  magpie,  in  with  your  best  hat;  and  a  cage 
of  white  mice  and  a  few  frogs  scattered  about  amongst 
the  lunch.  No,  but  truly,  I  think  as  soon  as  you  get  here 
you'd  best  give  the  brats  much  work  to  do,  or  goodness 
knows  in  what  way  they  will  break  out.  Take  my  advice 
and  let  them  go  to  the  public  school,  they  need  discipline, 
and  I  think  they  will  like  the  feeling  of  rivalry  and  com- 
petition it  seems  to  create.  It  was  all  very  well  to  teach 
them  yourself  out  there,  because  of  the  lack  of  school, 
but  here  it  is  all  so  different.  They  write  extremely  good 
letters,  those  irrepressibles;  have  they  "fessed  up"  to 
you  about  the  one  they  sent  me  ? 

So  you  have  arranged  our  Lares  and  Penates  for  us. 
Wonder  if  they  are  as  we  have  done  it.  Truly  it  looks 
just  lovely,  and  it  was  all  finished  last  night— the  very 
last  article  in  place. 

Dear  old  Frau  and  her  Franz,  of  course,  helped  us, 
and  we  have  had  our  meals  with  them  during  these  days 
of  business,  but  this  morning  we  made  our  own  coffee  on 
our  own  stove,  "thank  you,"  and  from  now  on  we  shall 
fend  for  ourselves. 

Of  course  there  has  been  considerable  expense  attached 
to  our  installation,  but  that  is  finished  and  we  shall  know 
a  month  from  now  just  how  much  it  will  cost  us. 

We  intend  to  be  perfectly  comfy,  but  not  extravagant. 
Fortunately  for  our  schemes,  we  have  very  simple  tastes 
in  the  way  of  our  "tummies."  Our  extravagances  are 
apt  to  be  in  the  book  line.  Bight  here  and  now,  lest  I 
forget  it,  I  must  tell  you  of  a  find  that  Phil  has  made — 
I  am  green  with  envy.  She  was  on  the  way  to  a  little 
Dutch  cabinet-maker's  shop,  to  get  him  to  do  some  re- 
pairing in  an  old  inlaid  table, — one  of  the  drawers  was 

168 


FAMILY  GODS 

stuck— and  she  passed  a  second-hand  book  shop  so  tiny, 
it  was  no  more  than  a  hole  in  the  wall,  a  sort  of  covered 
stall;  and  you  know  how  impossible  it  is  for  us  to  pass 
even  a  pile  of  old  "mags"  without  a  glance  "just  to 
see."  Well  there  was  the  usual  stuff  and  she  was  about 
to  go  on  when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  small,  dumpy 
book  with  its  back  off  and  looking  pretty  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  which  she  picked  up  to  find — a  first  edition  of 
Hudibras  with  a  heap  of  annotations  on  the  margins, 
written  in  a  fine,  clerky  hand,  with  ink  that  was  brown, 
not  black,— 

"To  my  dear  Charles  Lamb,  from  C" 
and  the  dates. 

Now  we  are  wondering  if  the  "C"  stands  for  Cole- 
ridge, or  whom,  and  we  shall  re-back  it  and  put  it 
amongst  our  treasures. 

I  nearly  wept  with  mingled  joy  and  mad — joy  to  get 
a  thing  that  had  been  one  of  Charles  Lamb's  treasures, 
and  mad  that  it  was  Phil,  not  I  who  found  it.  Of  the 
latter  feeling  I  am  most  ashamed,  and  this  morning  I 
made  the  "amende  honorable" — "fessed  up,"  in  other 
words. 

She  said,— 

' '  Oh,  you  don 't  need  to  say  anything,  I  know  all  about 
it.  The  time  you  came  home  with  those  three  Leech 
plates  I  had  murder  in  my  heart  for  at  least  ten  min- 
utes. "  So  we  laughed,  and  it  is  to  go  into  the  studio. 

We  have  decided  to  put  all  of  the  things  there  is  any 
doubt  about  in  our  "social  hall"  only  furnishing  our 
own  dens  with  our  really  individual  treasures. 

Of  course  you  want  to  know  how  near  our  arrange- 
ments match  your  mental  pictures.  But  remembering 
that  in  six  weeks  you  may  be  here  to  see  for  yourself, 
I  must  use  this  time  to  better  advantage,  for  time's  wo- 
ful  precious  now. 

I  will  just  mention  that  the  hall,  which  is  studio,  so- 
cial hall,  living-room  and  workshop,  is  fifty  feet  long,  has 

169 


CHUMS 

a  thirty-foot  skylight,  and  two  dormer  windows  at  each 
end,  the  back  ones  opening  on  to  a  projection  of  the  floor 
below,  which,  as  I  wrote  you,  gives  us  a  deep  veranda 
sheltered  on  three  sides. 

Franz  is  going  to  rig  up  a  photographer's  curtain  for 
the  skylight,  of  olive  green,  with  an  under  one  of  gray,  so 
that  we  can  adjust  the  light  to  our  needs  and  desires.  In 
another  month  it  will  be  warm  weather,  when  the  dark 
green  curtain  will  be  a  necessity. 

Phil's  den  and  bedroom  has  all  the  carved  rosewood 
that  was  in  Tanta's  room,  with  the  exception  of  the 
great  wardrobes  and  the  chest  we  used  to  call  the  "  sar- 
cophagus," and  on  the  walls,  her  pet  pieces  of  old  em- 
broidery, the  old  rose  and  gold  ones  that  were  in  the 
octagon  room  at  home,  and  her  desk  and  two  cases  of 
her  own  books. 

My  room  I  have  much  as  it  was  home,  in  arrangement, 
but  I  used  the  Louis  Seize  furniture.  The  marquetry 
seems  to  me  the  most  exquisite  imaginable  and  the  whole 
scheme  of  decoration  was  to  me  the  most  perfect. 

We  each  have  a  couch  besides  our  beds  and  I  have 
covered  my  walls  with  that  collection  of  old  embroidered 
and  needle-point  coats  and  skirts  that  was  in  the  gallery. 

"We  have  not  done  anything  about  the  fire-place,  that 
will  come  when  the  necessity  for  it  does,  in  the  late  fall, 
but  I  have  a  ripping  idea  for  it  which  Phil  said  was  per- 
fect. We  did  make  a  long  window  door  of  one  of  the 
windows  opening  into  the  veranda.  We  likewise  have  a 
wire  screen  and  an  awning  over  the  veranda,  and  we 
are  going  to  tell  Deborah  to  send  us  a  crate  full  of  the 
dwarf  Japanese  trees,  the  maples  and  firs  and  cypress,  in 
the  green  and  blue  and  white  dragon  pots,  then  with  a 
hammock  and  a  couple  of  basket  chairs  we  can  defy  the 
hot  weather. 

When  Frau  S.  saw  our  things  unpacked,  her  very 
round  eyes  grew  rounder  and  rounder  and  I  verily  be- 
lieve the  dear  soul  must  have  lost  pounds,  these  last  few 

170 


FAMILY  GODS 

i 

days,  trotting  up  and  down  stairs,  for  she  is  as  filled  with 
interest  in  us  and  our  possessions  as  can  be,  and  she  hates 
to  miss  anything,  so  we  have  just  made  her  one  of  us,  and 
she  exclaims  in  heartrending  tones,  a  thousand  times  a 
day,— 

' '  Ach,  mem  lieber  Gott,  Franz  will  just  to  see  that ' ' ! 

Altogether,  Kathie,  this  is  a  very  happy  find  for  us,  for 
the  dear  woman  mothers  us  and  looks  after  us  as  though 
we  were  her  own  girls.  The  second  day  of  our  "upset- 
ting, ' '  as  she  calls  it,  she  announced  in  tones  of  great  tri- 
umph,— 

"Ihef  it,  Ihef  it!" 

I  said,— "What,  Frau?" 

And  she  replied, — "Why,  it  is  all  too  great  a  work  for 
you  to  keep  these  beautifuls  dusted.  I  myself  will  do 
it." 

I  sat  down  there  and  then  laughed  until  I  was  weak, 
she  looked  so  funny,  for  her  cap  was  away  over  one  ear 
and  she  had  two  sets  of  glasses  pushed  up  over  her  fore- 
head, in  one  very  pudgy  hand  she  was  flourishing  a  long 
blue  and  white  checked  dust  cloth,  whilst  in  the  other 
she  had  the  fat  Chinese  God  in  Satsuma,  that  used  to 
wag  his  head  at  us  when  we  tipped  him ;  and  by  the  ex- 
pression of  her  face  and  tone  of  her  voice  you  would 
have  thought  she  had  just  been  made  a  present  of  some- 
thing greatly  worth  while,  instead  of  voluntarily  assum- 
ing further  duties. 

Phil  would  not  listen  to  it  at  first,  but  finally  we  saw 
the  dear  thing  was  hurt,  so  we  gave  in  and  now  I  expect 
we  shall  be  kept  in  such  a  state  of  dustless  care  that  we 
won't  dare  to  be  comfortable.  The  arrangement  only 
takes  in  the  studio,  however. 

Franz  has  made  screens  for  all  our  windows,  so  we  can 
have  a  gale  of  air,  without  flies  or  mosquitoes. 

We  are  quite  stuck  on  ourselves  and  Phil  announced  in 
a  very  "Superior  Lady"  tone  at  coffee  this  morning, — 

"Oh,  yes,  the  bachelor  women  of  to-day  do  themselves 
very  well,  you  know. ' ' 

171 


CHUMS 

Our  serious  work  commences  on  the  first;  and  for  the 
next  few  months  I  expect  we  shall  find  it  a  bit  of  a  grind, 
but  we  realize  that  life  is  not  all  dear  old  ivy-covered 
homes  and  great  shady  gardens  and  infinite  leisure  to  do 
what  one  wants  to  do,  and  then,  too,  we  are  both  most 
heartily  in  love  with  our  work  and  filled  with  ambition  to 
excel  in  it,  so  that  takes  the  ''cuss"  off. 

Phil  is  writing  you  now  about  the  house  we  told  you 
of,  and  you  two  can  arrange  the  financial  end  of  it. 

I  wrote  to  Ludweller  and  told  her  to  break  it  gently  to 
the  girls  that  they  were  to  join  forces  with  your  chicks 
for  a  housekeeping  winter  in  New  York,  with  prospects 
of  a  continuance,  given  things  went  well  and  they  were 
on  their  best  behavior. 

You  think  your  lot  are  a  bit  "  uneasy ' '  as  Deb  calls  it ; 
well  ours  are  a  lot  of  wild  Indians,  when  it  comes  to 
primitiveness  of  emotion,  and  have  not  the  Indian  con- 
trol. But,  truly,  Kathie,  what  a  remarkable  set  they  are 
—not  an  ugly  duckling  amongst  the  lot  of  them  and  a 
clever  set,  too ;  I  think  there  must  be  something  in  blood 
after  all.  Remember  how  old  Tanta  Sophia  used  to  draw 
herself  up  to  her  most  stately  height  when  she  said, — 

"Remember  girls,  you  do  not  belong  to  early  Dutch 
stock  which  meant  the  tradespeople  lot;  but  to  the  no- 
bles"—and  the  dear  thing,  I  verily  believe,  got  much 
comfort  out  of  the  thought. 

An  amusing  incident  occurred  yesterday,  it  is  too  long 
to  tell  now.  Will  tell  it  to  you  in  all  of  its  details,  next 
time. 

From  what  you  tell  me  of  Mr.  Farringdon  I  think  he 
must  be  altogether  likeable,  and  Phil  and  I  howled  over 
your  description  of  how  all  of  you  appropriated  the  good 
man  and  in  the  usual  way  arranged  all  his  affairs  for 
him,  from  the  disposition  of  his  furniture  to  the  proper 
laying  out  of  his  kitchen  garden.  I  can  just  see  the  lot 
of  you  around  that  table,  individually  and  collectively, 
as  you  say,  laying  down  the  law  to  him  and  he,  being  a 

172 


FAMILY  GODS 

'"lonely  soul,"  just  joying  in  it.  I  bet  my  next  find  that 
he  would  give  any  old  thing  to  keep  you  all  there.  Why 
what  will  the  man  do  with  all  of  his  gorgeousness  when 
he  gets  it  completed  ?  Positively  it 's  pathetic. 

Love  to  you  all, 

NAD. 


MAY  29TH,  — 
DEAR  NAD,— 

As  Paul,  Maxine  and  the  brats  have  been  scribbling  to 
you  almost  daily  and  I  have  been  so  busy,  your  long  let- 
ter was  put  aside  until  there  should  come  a  lull  in  my 
work.  Now  everything  is  arranged,  many  things  packed, 
and  for  the  six  weeks  to  come  before  our  flitting  I  am 
going,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  just  to  be  lazy.  Wheth- 
er it  is  owing  to  the  extra  work  and  nerve  strain  or  the 
unusual  heat,  I  feel  a  bit  done  up  and  listless,  likewise 
not  so  happy  as  usual. 

Do  not,  for  the  world,  let  the  girls  know  of  it  but,  Nad, 
I  am  just  having  to  exert  all  of  my  self-control  to  keep 
from  being  actively  unhappy.  The  lovely  woods  and 
fields  were  never  so  beautiful  to  me;  the  favorite  nooks 
by  the  creeks  never  so  bowery  and  inviting;  and  I  get 
such  a  queer  lump  in  my  throat  every  time  the  girls  go 
into  raptures  over  leaving  that  I,  who  never  knew  that  I 
had  nerves,  am  conscious  of  them  too  much,  and  such  a 
lieartache  that  I  sometimes  cannot  tell  whether  it  is  men- 
tal or  physical. 

Yesterday  we  were  having  tea  in  the  orchard  and  the 
girls  were  particularly  exuberant  and  full  of  plans  for 
""New  York,"  when  Mr.  Farringdon  said  to  me, — 

' '  Miss  Medway,  you  are  the  only  one  who  does  not  seem 
to  be  overjoyed  to  leave." 

And  I  Suppose  he  must  have  thought  me  a  stupid, 
cowey  thing,  for  I  simply  could  not  keep  my  eyes  from 
filling  and  I  had  to  turn  away  for  a  minute.  I  saw  a 
-queer  little  smile  on  his  lips  and  so  I  just  know  he 

173 


CHUMS 

thought ' '  poor  thing,  she  has  never  seen  anything  or  been 
anywhere  and  dreads  the  change  from  the  accustomed." 
Like  old  Bossy  who,  when  we  sold  her,  mourned  for  her 
stall  until  they  had  to  bring  her  back.  I  remember  that 
the  brats  had  told  him  of  the  incident  and  laughingly 
said, — 

"That's  like  Kathie,  she  hates  being  taken  to  New 
York." 

Next  week  he  goes  to  New  York  on  business  and  I  shall 
ask  him  to  call  on  you.  I  am  certain  you  will  like  him, 
he  is  so  simple  and  sincere. 

We  all  went  over  day  before  yesterday  to  lunch  at  his 
place,  and  the  girls  were  wild  with  pleasure  to  find  that 
he  had  already  begun  to  do  several  of  the  things  they  had 
suggested  to  him  the  first  day. 

He  asked  me  if  I  would  be  so  kind  as  to  speak  to  Mrs. 
Dacton,  his  housekeeper,  about  the  rearrangement  of  the 
rooms,  and  suggest  to  her  what  I  thought  would  be  well 
to  put  the  place  on  a  proper  footing  for  the  reception  of 
guests.  "For,  whilst  being  a  most  worthy  woman,  she  is 
not  used  to  a  large  establishment, ' '  he  added. 

I  felt  rather  diffident  about  it  until  I  saw  Mrs.  Dacton, 
then  all  of  my  diffidence  left  me.  Truly,  Nad,  it  was 
pathetic :  a  little,  frail  slip  of  a  woman,  with  a  nice  finely 
featured  face,  thin  gray  hair,  done  up  in  a  tight  little 
knob,  a  beautiful  black  silk  frock,  and  a  big  lace  collar 
held  by  a  huge  brooch,  a  silk  apron,  and  a  great  bunch  of 
keys,  and  little  hard  hands  with  the  nails  worn  to  the 
very  quick,  looking  like  the  hands  of  a  woman  who  had 
worked  at  the  hardest  manual  labor,  all  of  her  life.  New 
now  to  the  silk  frock,  to  the  lace  collar,  the  responsibility, 
the  ease  and  the  leisure. 

I  scent  a  story,  but  again  one  that  reflects  only  good- 
ness on  the  part  of  Mr.  Farringdon :  I  should  say,  possi- 
bly a  relation,  for  there  is  a  something  quite  indescrib- 
able in  expression,  that  reminds  me  of  him,  and  whilst 
she  does  not  speak  as  the  well  educated  do,  she  is  still  not 

174 


FAMILY  GODS 

anything  but  a  little  lady :  and,  too,  her  voice  has  tones 
that  remind  me  of  his.  As  neither  he  nor  she  volun- 
teered any  information  about  her,  I  of  course  know  noth- 
ing. 

I  forgot,  presently,  that  Mr.  Farringdon  was  almost  a 
stranger  in  my  enjoyment  of  the  chance  to  "arrange"— 
my  one  gift,  you  girls  all  say :  so  I  talked  away  and  it  was 
tea-time  before  we  were  half  through.  By  that  time, 
however,  I  had  given  her  a  good  number  of  hints  about 
the  management  of  those  lazy,  good-for-nothing  servants 
and  promised  to  let  her  have  my  copy  of  Tanta  Sophia's 
menus  and  recipes:  so  that  when  the  "guests"  Mr.  F. 
expects  to  entertain  arrive,  she  will  know  how  to  make 
them  comfortable.  I  felt  as  though  I  was  repaying,  in  a 
great  measure,  Mr.  F's  goodness  to  us,  when  I  promised 
to  lend  her  our  precious  old  book.  Only  hope  his  guests 
will  appreciate  the  things. 

Mr.  F.  came  to  get  me  for  tea  and  seemed  so  pleased 
to  see  us  interested,  and  I  shook  hands  with  Mrs.  Dacton 
and  promised  to  talk  with  her  again  several  times,  be- 
fore we  left  for  the  city. 

As  we  went  along  the  hall  to  the  library,  where  the  tea 
was  being  served  by  Tillia  and  the  rest,  Mr.  F.  thanked 
me  and  said, — 

"I  have  a  great  fondness  for  Mrs.  Dacton,  who  was 
very  kind  to  me  as  a  child,  and  I  fear  that  she  is  not  be- 
ing very  comfortable  here  as  housekeeper;"  then,  with 
a  sigh  and  a  worried  look—' '  poor  little  woman ! ' ' 

Whilst  I  think  of  it,  I  want  to  tell  you  something— Mr. 
Farringdon  asked  me  if  he  might  take  the  liberty  of 
keeping  us  supplied  with  fruits  and  vegetables  when  we 
went  to  town,  as  the  gardens  attached  to  Farringdon 
Hall  are  so  large  that  he  finds  difficulty  in  disposing  of 
the  things. 

I  said  yes  very  gladly  and  suggested  that  he  send 
weekly  a  hamper  to  the  Fruit  and  Flower  Mission,  and 
to  the  Hospital  for  Children. 

175 


CHUMS 

He  seemed  to  be  delighted  with  the  idea,  which  was 
quite  new  to  him,  and  made  a  note  of  the  addresses. 

I  think  surely  this  fortune  is  new  to  him,  for  he  does 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it,  although  it  has  leaked  out 
that  he  has  given  large  amounts  to  various  charities. 

When  we  got  home  we  found  a  letter  from  Theodocia 
and  I  will  forward  it  to  you. 

She  says  amongst  other  things,  that  their  quarters  in 
the  Quarter  are  delightful,  and  that  she  has  described 
their  trip,  arrival  and  installation,  in  a  letter  to  Nell, 
which  Nell  is  to  send  to  us,  and. we  to  you. 

She  is  in  her  element,  is  our  "Docia. " 

Love  to  all,  KATHIE. 

I  have  grave  doubts  as  to  the  advisability  of  your  be- 
ing so  intimate  with  that  young  German  mechanic,  you 
are  too  reckless  of  ' '  les  convenances. "  .  K. 


JUNE  STH,  — 

Now  look  here,  Katherine  Medway,— love  you  I  do,  but 
love  you  I  will  not  if  you  do  not  quit  the.  part  of  ' '  guard- 
ian of  the  family  propriety. ' '  Goodness !  you  make  me 
laugh,  and  will  laugh  yourself  when  you  meet  the  Frau's 
son,  to  think  that  you  ever  imputed  ulterior  motives  to 
him.  Why,  if  ever  on  earth  there  was  personified  sim- 
plicity of  motive  and  heart,  it  is  manifested  in  Franz 
Slb'ter. 

Yes,  the  girls  have  written  daily,  and  Phil  has  turned 
over  to  Frau  Wagner  (the  owner  of  No.  1;  your  new 
domicile)  all  of  the  instructions,  and  as  she  (F.  W.)  is 
of  the  order  of  the  elect,  you  will  find  it  aired,  cleaned, 
painted  and  scrubbed  to  the  last  corner  shelf. 

Yesterday,  at  twelve  precisely,  as  I  was  sitting  down 
to  a  solitary  luncheon,  (Phil  being  down-town)  "Diana" 
Frau  came  up-stairs  quite  breathless,  to  say  that  a  gen- 
tleman was  waiting  in  the  parlor,  and  a  glance  at  the  two 
cards  she  held  showed  me  they  were  Mr.  Farringdon 's. 

176 


FAMILY  GODS 

So  I  just  told  her  to  ask  him  up  and  I  met  him  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs. 

Of  course  you  had  told  him  so  much  of  us,  and  us  so 
much  of  him,  there  was  not  a  particle  of  ice  to  break,  so 
in  ten  minutes  we  were  talking  like  mad :  that  is,  I  was, 
and  he  was  listening,  in  that  nice  "so  interested -in-what- 
yon-say"  way  of  his,  that  went  straight  to  my  heart, — 
when  suddenly  there  burst  upon  the  air, — yes  nothing 
short  of  "burst"  expresses  it,— a  fearful  smell  like  the 
combination  of  a  blacksmith  shop  and  a  match  factory, 
and  I  realized  that  my  luncheon  was  burned.  Such  a 
heavenly  little  pot  of  sheep's  trotters  and  tongue,  that 
Frau  had  made  for  me ! 

I  rushed  into  the  kitchen,  after  a  hasty  excuse,  and 
took  it  off  the  flame  and  put  it  under  the  faucet,  then 
opened  all  of  the  windows  that  were  not  already  open,  to 
let  out  the  smoke  and  odor,  washed  my  hands  and  went 
back  and  explained. 

He  looked  so  amused  until  I  said  "my  luncheon,"  then 
went  red  as  could  be,  and  said,— 

' '  Good  gracious,  Miss  Eloc,  it  was  utterly  inexcusable 
in  me  to  come  at  this  time,  but  I  quite  forgot  that  it  was 
the  hour  for  luncheon  and  now,  as  yours  is  spoiled  by  my 
fault,  won't  you  come  and  have  luncheon  with  me  at  the 
Holland  House?" 

I  explained  that  it  was  quite  out  of  the  question  for 
several  reasons,  which  I  did  not  give,  but  I  told  him  that 
if  he  would  like  to  win  my  pardon  he  might  stay  and 
lunch  with  me. 

He  was  as  pleased  as  a  boy  and  I  took  him  into  the 
kitchen-dining-room,  which  had  cleared  a  bit,  and  I 
grilled  some  ham,  scrambled  some  eggs,  warmed  up  some 
potatoes,  put  a  glass  of  Debbie's  "jell"  on  the  table,  and 
we  had  luncheon. 

He  enjoyed  it  all  so  immensely  and  was  so  interested 
in  all  of  our  contrivances  for  comfort  and  in  the  dainti- 
ness of  the  place,  and  when  I  was  proudly  showing  my 

177 


CHUMS 

kitchen  cabinet  that  Franz  had  made  for  me,  he  said,— 

"You  are  really  very  happy,  are  you  not,  Miss  Eloc, 
and  this  is  a  joy  to  you?" 

— meaning  our  life  and  its  limitations,  I  suppose,  in  the 
money  way,  and  those  nice,  kind  eyes  of  his  looked 
straight  through  me  as  though  he  were  trying  to  see 
into  my  very  heart. 

So  I  answered  him  truly,  that  I  was  content,  and  that 
the  old  dreams,  old  longings  for  wealth  and  travel  and 
that  big,  rich  life  I  had  always  thought  possible  with  the 
possession  of  money  only,  were  not  nearly  so  insistent  as 
they  had  been. 

Phil  had  taken  me  to  account,  only  a  few  days  before, 
for  what  she  is  pleased  to  call  my  ' '  mooning, ' '  had  asked 
me  if  I  had  last  ambition  or  felt  ill  and  said  that  she  had 
not  heard  me  say  once  in  a  month  that  I  was  wild  to  join 
Theodocia  and  her  girls  in  Paris,  as  I  had  been  doing  on 
an  average  of  twice  a  day  until  lately. 

Mr.  F.  went  into  the  studio  after  luncheon  whilst  I  put 
away  the  things,  and  when  I  joined  him  he  was  looking 
at  the  "treasures"  and  we  were  going  over  the  old  il- 
lumined books  together  when  Phil  came  home— and 
fancy !  it  was  four  o  'clock. 

Mr.  F.  looked  aghast,  I  laughed  and  Phil  was,  as  usual, 
"very  superior."  There  are  times  when  I  could  shake 
Phil!  But  when  I  told  our  story  and  she  knew  it  was 
your  Mr.  Farringdon  and  saw  how  intensely  interested 
he  was  in  the  treasures,  she  unbent  and  was  as  nice  as 
nice  could  be. 

We  insisted  that  he  stay  to  tea,  which  Phil  made,  and 
then  we  sat  out  on  the  porch,  "our  porch,"  and  we 
talked.  He  told  us  about  you  and  the  children,  as  he 
calls  the  lot,  and  chuckled  as  he  told  us  of  some  of  the 
brats '  enormities.  Evidently  he  thinks  you  are  en  masse 
hard  to  beat  for  good  looks  and  clever  wits. 

Oh,  by  the  way,  did  you  know  that  the  brats  went  out 
to  see  him  one  night  at  ten  o'clock,  after  they  were  sup- 
posed to  be  in  bed  and  asleep,  to  ask  him  to  promise 

178 


FAMILY  GODS 

" cross  his  heart"  that  the  meadow  where  the  willows  are 
should  be  left  as  it  is,  because  when  they  "got  rich,"  for- 
sooth, they  wanted  to  buy  it  back  so  they  could  build 
their  bungalow  there.  And  then  he  walked  back  with 
them  and  they  climbed  up  on  the  woodshed  roof  and  got 
into  their  room  window. 

If  they  have  not  told  you,  do  not  let  them  know  that 
Z  have,  but  when  they  get  to  the  city  you'd  best  turn 
the  key  on  them  when  you  tuck  them  up,  as  they  might 
be  taking  prowls  about  the  city  otherwise.  What  a  pity 
they  were  not  boys,  those  irrepressible  brats. 

When  Mr.  F.  went  we  felt  as  if  we  had  known  him  for 
years  and  we  are  so  glad  that  he  is  to  be  a  "  friend  of  the 
family"  and  oh,  I  say,  Kathie,  what  a  dear  he  is! 

Phil  told  me  after  he  went,  as  we  were  getting  dinner, 
that  to-day  at  the  office  there  was  quite  a  scene.  One  of 
the  reporters,  a  most  clever  fellow,  was  arrested  for  steal- 
ing. It  is  a  pitiful  sort  of  story  and  such  an  old  one. . 
Phil  was  greatly  upset  over  it  and  so  it  seems  was  every 
one,  as  he  is  a  great  favorite  and  immensely  clever. 

Oh,  dear,  as  I  learn  more  of  it,  this  great  world  I  so 
wanted  to  be  in  and  of  rather  frightens  me. 

Have  been  taking  a  little  dash  over  into  Ireland  and 
am  more  and  more  charmed  with  it :  you  will  laugh  when 
I  tell  you  that  I  have  been  visiting  the  "Carews", 
(thanks  to  Lever  and  Mrs.  Kilfoyle,  and  to  Jane  Barlow) 
times  of  long  ago  and  times  present,  and  I  find  myself 
having  a  very  soft  spot  in  my  heart  for  the  land  and  the 
people.  Phil  says  I  am  a  positive  manifestation  of  the 
atavistic  theory. 

I  truly  must  stop  gossiping  with  you.  Have  two  pages 
of  illumining  to  do  this  week  yet,  so  to  work. 

Love  to  you, 

NAD. 

P.  S.  Phil  has  just  come  through  the  room  and  I  can 
see  that  she  has  been  crying,  cannot  imagine  what  for, 
unless  it  be  over  the  affair  of  the  office,  and  yet  Phil  is 
not  given  to  weeps.  I  do  not  dare  say  anything  to  her 

179 


CHUMS 

about  her  red  eyes,  you  know  what  a  perfect  "sensitive 
plant"  she  is,  but  I  just  hate  to  have  her  upset — our 
calm,  cool,  Phil! 

JUNE  20TH,  — 
NAD  DEAR, — 

Have  had  it  on  my  heart  to  answer  your  letter  for 
days,  but  have  been  so  upset  and  unlike  myself,  I  could 
not. 

No,  there  is  nothing  especially  wrong,  except  that  my 
heart  is  so  heavy  at  leaving,  and  several  times  lately  I 
have  just  had  to  fly  to  keep  from  saying  things  to  the 
girls.  I  cannot  account  for  it.  For  awhile  back,  when  it 
was  just  a  "dream  castle"  with  no  hope  of  its  material- 
izing, I  was  as  wild  over  it  as  any  of  us.  Now,  well — 
my  heart  feels  like  lead. 

Yesterday  I  went  up  to  the  Hall,  as  I  had  promised 
Mrs.  Dacton  to  do,  and  had  a  long  talk  with  her.  She 
seems  to  have  taken  to  me,  and  her  poor  little  face  bright- 
ened so  when  she  saw  me,  and  after  our  talk  she  was 
quite  cheerful,  thanking  me  for  all  I  had  done  and  with 
a  sigh  said, — 

"Oh,  Miss  Medway,  if  I  had  only  had  a  daughter  like 
you,  how  happy  I  should  have  been." 

I  rather  think  she  has  had  a  daughter  and  been  unhap- 
py in  the  possession. 

As  she  was  showing  me  some  old  receipts  there  fell  out 
of  the  papers  a  little  letter,  evidently  a  child's  as  I  could 
see  by  the  writing,  and  evidently  very  old.  She  picked  it 
up  and  kissed  it  before  putting  it  away,  saying, — 

' '  My  bonny  baby,  oh,  my  bonny  boy ! ' ' 

I  think  some  day  she  will  tell  me  the  story,  for  story 
there  surely  is. 

Mr.  Farringdon  caught  up  with  me  just  beyond  the 
lane  and  walked  back  home  with  me.  He  was  evidently 
greatly  pleased  with  you  girls  and  your  kind  welcome. 
So  much  so,  that  I  was  surprised  and  I  suppose  showed 
it,  for  he  said,— 

180 


FAMILY  GODS 

"I  am  a  friendless  sort  of  fellow,  Miss  Medway,  and 
coming  into  this  new  atmosphere  of  friendliness  and 
good  comradeship  is  just  plain  joy  to  me.  I  wonder" — 
and  then  he  stopped  and  said  no  more  until  we  arrived 
at  the  gate. 

I  saw,  as  I  turned  to  say  good-bye  to  him,  that  he  was 
deep  in  thought,  and  that  his  eyes  had  the  sad  look  they 
show  occasionally.  Just  then  Tillia  came  up  the  path 
from  the  willows  with  Max  and  Paul  following,  so  I  had 
no  further  chance  to  say  anything, — but  his  eyes  have 
haunted  me  ever  since. 

Yes,  as  you  say,  Nad,  the  world  is  a  fearsome  place  and 
I,  too,  get  a  frightened  feeling  when  I  think  of  it. 

KATHIE. 


JUNE  28TH,  — 

I  have  discovered,  Kathie  dear,  what  ails  Phil,  but  I 
am  still  so  astounded  and  upset  that  I  can  hardly  bring 
myself  to  write  of  it. 

It  seems  that  the  young  man  who  was  arrested  last 
week  in  the  office  is  a  Philip  Dacton  whom  Phil,  our  Phil, 
met  two  years  ago  whilst  on  that  visit  to  Nell  and  it  seems 
has  corresponded  with  since,  which  was  "Startler  Num- 
ber One" — then,  that  for  a  year  she  has  been  half  en- 
gaged to  him,  but  afraid  to  let  us,  or  rather  Tanta  So- 
phia, know,  "Startler  Number  Two."  They  had  in- 
tended waiting  for  another  year,  until  he  had  got  a  bet- 
ter hold  on  the  position,  before  saying  anything  about  it : 
but  during  the  last  six  months,  he  got  into  a  queer  set 
and  things  have  gone  wrong,  and  now  this  embezzlement, 
which  means  prison. 

Oh,  it  is  all  so  awful !  and  Phil  goes  about  with  a  white 
face  and  such  eyes  they  make  me  shiver.  No  one  knows 
but  me,  but  she  said  I  might  tell  you  and  begged  me  to 
ask  you  not  to  talk  to  her  of  it. 

This  Philip  Dacton  is  immensely  clever  and  stood  a 

181 


CHUMS 

great  chance  in  the  office,  where  he  is,  as  I  wrote  you, 
greatly  liked.  Phil  showed  me  his  picture  and  it  is  the 
picture  of  an  extremely  handsome  man,  with  something 
vaguely  familiar  about  it ;  but  she  says  we  have  none  of 
us  ever  seen  him. 

She  was  afraid  to  tell  Tanta  Sophia,  as  he  was  just  be- 
ginning his  career  and  had  not  a  single  recommendation 
in  the  way  of  family  or  social  position,  being  poor  and, 
I  believe,  an  orphan.  So  they  were  waiting  until  his  po- 
sition on  the  staff  was  better. 

I  confess  I  was  just  rabid  at  her  having  been  so  secre- 
tive about  it  to  me,  when  I  turn  out  every  nook  and  cor- 
ner of  my  mind  to  her,  but  I  had  not  the  heart  to  be 
ugly  long. 

It  seems  to  be  such  a  tragedy  to  her.  She  has  to  go  to 
the  office  as  usual  and  each  flay  comes  home  looking  like 
a  corpse — of  course  hears  a  lot  of  talk  which  she  has 
to  appear  indifferent  to,  but  it  hurts  her  horribly.  She 
will  get  over  it  and  her  pride  will  help  her.  Oh,  this 
Van  Orden  pride  is  a  pretty  good  thing— we  may  neatly 
break  in  two,  like  an  old  Nankin  plate,  but  we  do  not 
crack  and  splinter. 

Kathie,  the  realization  of  the  joy  and  simplicity  of  life 
and  aim  is  beginning  to  come  to  me,  as  I  see  Franz  Sloter 
and  know  how  fine — yes,  you  need  not  laugh,  fine  I  say, 
his  life  is ;  earnest  work,  which  his  artistic  sense  has  made 
a  thing  of  beauty ;  his  clean  tastes,  his  highly  developed 
gifts  and  knowledge  of  the  best  in  art,  literature  and 
music;  and  his  simple  life.  None  of  the  striving  after 
the  fashions  of  the  men  about  town,  content  to  be  an  arti- 
san but  recognized  as  an  artist  in  his  metier.  Yet,  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  that  because  he  dresses  in  a  different  way 
from  the  men  we  have  known,  wears  queer  boots  and  soft 
shirts,  I  cannot,  with  any  comfort,  go  out  with  him.  For 
which  thing  I  hold  myself  in  infinite  contempt,  paltry, 
small  souled,  peanut-brained  thing  that  I  am. 

Yours  in  disgust,  ^ 

182 


JULY  GTH,  — 
NAD  DEAREST,— 

Have  been  in  such  a  ferment,  since  your  letter  came, 
that  I  could  not  settle  to  an  answer. 

Tillia  has  justified  her  resemblance  to  her  famous 
Aunt  and  I  am  just  heart-broken  to  find  that  for  a  year 
and  over  she  has  been  deceiving  me  and  all  of  us.  Has 
been  corresponding  with  a  boy,— or  man,  I  suppose  he 
should  be  called,  as  he  is  twenty-five, — and  is  engaged  to 
him. 

They  met  at  the  parsonage,  during  that  time  that  Mrs. 
Adams  was  so  ill  and  Tillia  used  to  go  over  and  read  to 
her,  and  this  lad  was  boarding  at  the  Caxton's  and 
sketching.  He  is  an  artist,  or  a  would-be  one.  It  seems 
every  blessed  day  after  Tillia  read  awhile  to  Mrs.  Adams 
she  would  meet  him  and  spend  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
with  him ;  all  innocent  enough,  you  say.  Yes,  if  they  had 
been  open  about  it  and  she  had  brought  him  to  the  house, 
where  we  all  could  have  met  him.  But  this  long  course 
of  deceitfulness  and  secrecy— goodness  knows  why  it  was 
not  found  out  long  ago,  with  the  brats  scouring  the  coun- 
try the  way  they  do,  and  Paul  fern  hunting  and  wood 
flower  gathering  all  over  the  place !  But  it  was  not,  until 
last  week  when  Max,  on  her  way  home  through  the  alder 
clump,  came  upon  them  reading  under  the  trees,  his  arm 
around  her  and  her  silly  little  head  on  his  shoulder. — 
Then  there  were  heroics  on  his  part  and  tears  and  ex- 
planations on  hers. 

Max  brought  them  back  in  custody,  so  to  speak,  to  me. 
Talk  about  being  taken  aback !  I  was  simply  speechless 
for  awhile.  Then  I  got  a  thorough  explanation. 

He  is  by  name  Allan  Brooks,  son  of  a  professor  of  the 

same  name  in  C College.     Only  child,  spoiled  of 

course,  and  by  profession  an  artist.  Supposedly  clever 
in  a  way.  Makes  a  living,  such  as  it  is,  and  is  one  of  the 
type  I  loathe,— too  pretty  and  too  effeminate.  No  force, 
no  anything  that  I  like,  but  of  course  captivated  by 

183 


CHUMS 

Tillia's  beauty,  and  filled  with  great  intention  to  do  or 
die  for  her. 

The  thing  has  resolved  itself  into  this,— they  are  to  be 
married.  Nad,  I  simply  dared  not  refuse.  I  hate  it,  I 
dread  it,  but  I  feel  helpless,  for  Tillia  is  of  age  and  quite 
obstinate  enough  to  go  against  me  if  I  refuse  my  consent, 
so  I  am  forced  to  give  it. 

His  father  will  allow  them  a  hundred  dollars  a  month, 
which  added  to  what  he  hopes  to  make  by  his  pictures 
will  keep  them  going  in  some  little  hole-and-corner  sort 
of  way,  I  call  it.  "  In  a  charming,  artistic,  studio  sort  of 
way,"  they  call  it  and  seem  to  think  it  consists  of  a  big 
attic,  north  light,  old  armor,  old  rugs,  makeshift  furni- 
ture, plaster  casts  and  a  long  perspective  of  chafing-dish 
meals  and  hugger-mugger  housekeeping. 

Have  been  so  full  of  my  woes  I  quite  forgot  to  say  how 
badly  I  feel  for  Phil  and  parenthetically  for  you,  dear, 
but  Heavens!  Nad,  if  the  man  is  of  such  a  character, 
thanks  be  it  is  discovered  now,  not  later.  My  poor  old 
Phil!  My  heart  is  heavy  at  the  thought  of  her  trouble. 
Oh,  how  upsetting  a  thing  is  this  love !  Give  her  a  hug 
for  me.  Yes,  the  Van  Orden  pride  will  help  out. 

Went  up  to  the  Hall  to  see  Mrs.  Dacton,— queer  the 
name  of  Phil's  young  man  is  the  same, — but  found  out 
she  had  gone  to  New  York.  Saw  Mr.  Farringdon  and 
he  looked  fagged  and  queer. 

He  has  been  so  kind  and  nice  about  our  muddle  and  so 
encouraging  and  hopeful  about  the  two  "babes  in  the 
woods"  as  he  calls  them ;  seems  to  think  it  is  the  way  with 
"love's  young  dream"  to  do  silly  things  and  altogether 
entered  into  my  dilemma  and  was  so  very  helpful.  Found 
out  all  about  Allan's  people  and  has,  I  really  suppose, 
helped  to  bring  things  to  the  present  pass  of  a  wedding 
in  the  very  near  future,  so  near  that  it  is  to  be  before  we 
break  up  here.  Even  offered  his  house,  but  I  put  my 
foot  down  about  that. 


184 


FAMILY   GODS 

She  shall  be  married  here,  in  the  old  home  where  I 
have  struggled  so  many  years  with  her,  and  it  shall  be 
as  simple  and  quiet  as  possible ;  only  you  girls  and  Doc- 
tor Adams,  his  wife,  Allan's  father  and  mother  and  his 
two  cousins. 

Will  let  you  know  when  it  is  to  be  and  your  chicks 
must  come. 

Yes,  we  can  manage  all  right,  and  even  though  I  feel 
sore  it  would  not  be  fair  to  the  child  not  to  make  it  as 
pretty  and  happy  as  possible,  this  first  wedding  in  the 
family. 

Love  to  you, 

KATHIE. 


JULY 
KATHIE  DEAREST,— 

True  to  our  vow  of  "truthspeaking"  to  each  other, 
even  when  it  is  unpleasant,  shall  say  to  you,— that  you 
are  wrong  in  your  attitude  towards  Tillia. 

Now  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think  was  in  part  the  rea- 
son of  what  you  call  her  ' '  deception. ' ' 

First,  the  child  is  in  absolute  terror  of  your  condem- 
nation, gentle  as  it  is,  and  having  that  queer  strain  in  the 
blood  and  her  almost  oriental  sense  of  and  necessity  for 
"smooth,  comfortable  living"  and  fear  of  crises,  would 
of  course  do  exactly  what  she  has  done.  Then  this  first 
love  came  to  her  in  so  sweet  a  way  that  she  dreaded  to 
have  it  handled  roughly  and  be  made  the  subject  of  the 
remarks  and  criticisms  of  you  older  ones,  and  of  the  jeers 
and  mischief  of  the  never-to-be-kept-under  brats.  I  have 
a  great  feeling  of  understanding  for  that,  and  I  had 
long  ago  made  up  my  mind  that  when  my  prince  put  in 
his  appearance,  we  would  do  very  much  as  Tillia  and 
her  lad  have  done. 

You  know,  Kathie  dear,  these  huge  families  are  alto- 
gether lovely  in  most  ways,  but  in  a  very  few  ways  try- 

185 


CHUMS 

ing,  and  I  could  feel  myself  an  orphan  and  friendless, 
with  joy,  at  times.    That  would  be  one  of  the  times, 

So,  don't  be  so  tragic  over  the  young  folks,  and  do  be 
quite  certain  that  they  will  get  more  fun  and  downright 
enjoyment  out  of  their  "hugger-mugger"  housekeeping, 
at  least  while  the  glamor  is  on,  than  many  a  more  cor- 
rectly established  couple  will,  in  a  perfectly  appointed 
home.  Likewise,  youthful  "tummies"  can  stand  much 
in  the  way  of  indigestible  chafing-dish  meals,  and  ap- 
parently thrive  on  the  regime. 

Of  course  there  will  be  dust  in  the  corners  and  under 
the  furniture,  the  rugs  will  not  be  thoroughly  beaten  suf- 
ficiently often,  and  the  windows  will  be  hopelessly  dirty, 
but  they  won 't  see,  know  or  care  and  they  will  have  such 
a  good  time,  dear  things,  my  heart  goes  out  to  them. 

And  as  to  the  wedding  being  pretty,  well,  I  rather 
think  it  will !  Our  first  one  in  the  family !  Of  course  the 
chicks  shall  come,  and  you  can  turn  the  big  hay  barn  into 
a  dormitory,  where  at  least  twenty  of  us  can  sleep.  That 
will  give  room  in  the  house  for  the  few  "careful  ones  of 
a  certain  age"  who  have  never  learned  the  sheer  ecstasy 
of  sleeping  on  fresh  straw  with  the  great  barn  doors  wide 
open  to  the  summer  night  breezes. 

We  can  use  the  swimming  pool  under  the  willows  for 
our  bath  room  and  so  make  no  trouble  or  disturbance. 
I  am  so  excited  over  the  thought  of  it  I  will  give  them 
two  of  my  most  precious  pieces  of  tapestry,  to  help  make 
beautiful  that  "wonderful  studio"  and  Phil  says, — 

' '  Tillia  shall  have  the  old  squatty  English  1720  tea-set 
and  its  carved  table  to  hold  it. ' ' 

Let  me  know  when  it  is  to  be  and  I  will  write  the 
•chicks  to  pack  a  grip  apiece  and  go  the  day  before. 

Lovingly, 

NAD. 

P.  S.  Could  I  bring  dear  old  Frau  S.?  She  would 
just  love  to  come,  I  know,  and  would  not  be  a  bit  in  the 

186 


FAMILY  GODS 

way.  On  the  contrary,  would  be  very  helpful,  for  even 
though  it  be  ever  so  "simple"  there  are  such  gangs  of 
us  that  we  are  rather  appalling  in  point  of  number  to- 
feed.  N. 

JULY  14TH,  — 


NAD  DEAR,— 

Your  letter  did  me  heaps  of  good  and  helped  me  to 
see  the  ' '  other  point  of  view. ' ' 

Do  you  know,  I  do  not  believe  I  have  as  great  an 
amount  of  the  sense  of  humor  as  the  rest  of  you  have. 
Has  it  ever  struck  you  that  way  ?  Answer  that,  please ! 

Your  suggestion  about  the  "barn  dormitory"  is  good 
and  we  will  utilize  it,  and  that  will  give  ample  room  for 
the  people  who  must  have  properly  appointed  bedrooms. 

It  is  decided  that  the  wedding  shall  be  on  Saturday, 
the  twenty-first,  at  noon,  under  the  great  grape  arbor, 
which  is  a  thing  of  beauty  now. 

The  girls  are  going  to  make  it  all  as  lovely  as  possible. 

Afterwards,  the  wedding  breakfast  will  be  in  the 
grove,  spread  on  long  tables,  and  we  are  all  to  be  dressed 
a  la  Watteau,  with  Tillia  in  the  peach-and-cream  colored 
silk  of  the  other  Hortillia,  which  fits  her  perfectly. 

I  did  not  want  that,  feeling  as  I  do  about  things,  but 
hesitated  to  object,  for  it  seems  to  me  that  I  am  object- 
ing too  often,  since  you  have  opened  my  eyes. 

Of  course  it  will  be  charming  if  the  weather  holds 
good,  and  we  are  all  offering  up  prayers  to  the  gods. 

Shall  want  you  and  Phil  to  lend  us  some  of  the  hoarded 
finery,  and,  as  we  are  an  adaptable  lot,  we  will  make  it 
fit  and  be  as  careful  as  we  can  be  of  it.  Send  up  a  trunk- 
ful,  that's  a  dear. 

We  are  living  in  a  whirl  of  excitement  and  even  I  find 
myself  "thrilly." 

Mr.  F.  went  to  New  York  yesterday. 

Mrs.  Dacton  has  not  yet  returned,  but  he  has  put 
everything  at  our  disposal,  which  is  very  nice  of  him. 

187 


CHUMS 

We  shall,  however,  only  make  use  of  some  of  those  big, 
lazy  servants,  and  those  I  shall  take  a  great  joy  in 
"chivvying"  a  bit,  and  I  promise  you  they  shall  earn 
their  keep  the  days  they  work  for  me. 

After  the  house  guests  leave,  which  will  be  on  the  six 
o'clock  train,  the  strictly  family  lot  will  settle  down  to 
a  good  "heart-to-hearter"  as  the  brats  call  it,  and  we 
shall  have  Sunday  together.  Then  you  will  go  back  to 
town  and  we  shall  complete  our  preparations  for  mov- 
ing. 

The  bride  and  groom  leave  on  the  four-thirty  train  for 

D ,  where  they  intend  having  a  month  of  honeymoon, 

after  which  they  will  go  to  town  and  that  studio. 

Yes,  certainly,  bring  your  "Frau,"  she  will  be  very 
welcome,  but  you  need  not  bring  the  mechanic. 

KATHIE. 


JULY  19TH,  — 

I  am  so  mad  I  could  howl,  Kathie  dearest;  yesterday 
I  fell  off  a  chair,  whilst  hanging  up  the  dickey-bird's 
cage,  and  have  given  my  ankle  such  a  perfectly  brutal 
twist  that  the  doctor  says  it  will  mean  at  least  two  weeks 
of  no  walking,  so  that  knocks  me  out  of  the  wedding. 

At  first,  when  we  learned  the  fact,  Phil  said  she  too 
would  give  up  going,  but  I  put  my  foot  down  about  that 
and  likewise  about  the  Frau,  who  also  wanted  to  stay, 
and  have  wired  Debbie  to  come  to  town  and  look  after 
me  for  the  two  days  they  will  be  away. 

The  trunk  of  pretties  you  doubtless  have  received  by 
now,  and  my  eyes  fill  at  the  thought  that  I  am  not  to  see 
that  Watteau  scene ;  but  I  have  bound  Phil  by  a  hundred 
oaths  to  ' '  snapshot ' '  the  lot  of  you  on  all  and  every  occa- 
sion, and  she  is  going  armed  with  plenty  of  films  and 
her  camera  in  first-rate  condition. 

Am  bothered  over  Phil,  Kathie,  she  is  looking  miser- 
able. This  trouble  and  the  confinement  of  the  office,  dur- 
ing these  long,  hot  days,  is  telling  on  her,  and  although 

188 


FAMILY  GODS 

we  sleep  out  on  the  veranda  every  night,  still,  she  does 
miss  the  country  air  even  more  than  I  do,  for  my  missing 
is  purely  longing  whilst  hers  seems  to  be  a  physical  thing. 

I  have  persuaded  her  to  promise  to  stay  four  days  with 
you  and  don't  you  let  her  go  back  on  that.  She  can 
send  her  work  to  the  office  for  those  extra  two  days.  She 
intended  giving  up  the  office  work  and  doing  "free 
lance"  at  home,  anyway.  I  fancy  the  talk  about  that 
man 's  affair  that  she  cannot  escape  hearing  is,  in  a  great 
measure,  the  reason.  And  he,  by  the  by,  will  have  to 
serve  his  time;  there  is  to  be  no  buying  off,  even  were 
there  people  to  buy  him  off.  The  trial  is  to  come  off  in  a 
fortnight. 

I  am  in  such  a  state  of  exasperation  when  I  think  of 
his  miserable  weakness,  realize  that  it  can  hurt  and  touch 
our  Phil,  our  proud  Phil,  that  I  find  it  hard  to  be  sorry 
for  him.  There  is  something  in  the  whole  affair  more 
than  we,  or  at  least  I,  have  heard,  and  I  have  got  it  into 
my  head  that  there  was  some  woman  in  the  case,  though 
how  there  could  be  under  such  circumstances  I  cannot 
conceive.  I  wish  I  knew  absolutely. 

I  wonder  if  your  Mr.  Farringdon  would  find  out  and 
tell  me  if  possibly  I  am  right.  Phil  would  be  so  furious 
that  she  would  put  him  away  from  her  heart.  It  seems 
to  me  that  if  I  were  in  such  a  position  as  she  is  and  the 
man  were  not  sufficiently  appreciative  to  keep  away  from 
other  women,  he  might  have  them,  and  good  riddance. 
But  it  is  easy  to  settle  other  people 's  affairs,  is  it  not  ? 

I  have  written  to  the  "young  people"  and  sent  my 
gift,  or  rather  Phil  is  to  take  it,  and  I  shall  fortify  my- 
self with  two  new  books  I  have  long  had  it  in  my  heart 
to  read.  Debbie  will  nurse  me  and  the  days  will  go  by, 
but  send  me  a  double  portion  of  wedding  cake  and  write 
me  all  about  it. 

Oh,  I  could  weep  with  disappointment ! 

Yours, 

NAD. 

189 


CHUMS 

5.30  P.  M.,  SUNDAY,  JULY  22,  — 
MY  DEAR  NAD,— 

Have  just  had  tea  and  all  the  rest  have  strolled  off  to 
the  grove,  so  I  Ve  a  moment  to  myself. 

Oh,  my  dear,  we  were  all  so,  so  sorry  you  were  not 
here.  Everything  went  off  in  a  perfectly  ravishing  way, 
not  a  single  mishap,  and  the  weather  was  beyond  words, 
fine. 

Phil  has  taken  heaps  of  pictures  of  us,  and  with  those 
and  the  various  accounts  you  will  get,  you  ought  by 
rights  to  have  a  good  idea  of  it  all. 

Tillia,  as  you  will  see,  was  exquisite.  The  child  never 
looked  lovelier  and  in  the  identical  dress,  with  her  hair 
dressed  in  the  same  way,  was  a  replica  of  the  other  Hor- 
tillia. 

Mr.  P.,  who  has  just  left  for  the  city,  will  call  on  you 
and  give  you  his  account  of  our  festivities,  and  tell  you 
something  that  will  surprise  you. 

We  have  persuaded  Phil  to  stop  over  next  week;  she 
is,  as  you  say,  not  at  all  well,  poor  dear,  and  Nad,  she 
won't  unbosom  to  me  a  bit.  Of  course  we  have  all  been 
so  busy,  that  until  last  night  there  was  not  a  minute  in 
which  we  could  talk,  free  from  interruption,  but  as  we 
were  sitting  on  the  barn  door-sill  about  ten,— all  the  oth- 
ers were  asleep, — she  told  me  quite  baldly  and  in  a  queer,, 
stiff  little  way,  the  cold  facts,  and  when  I  wanted  to  com- 
fort her  and  tried  to  she  drew  away  and  said, — 

"Don't  Kathie,  I  can't  bear  it,  I  don't  want  any 
pity." 

The  poor  thing!  I  could  just  have  danced  on  that 
man's  prostrate  form  with  glee,  I  was  so  indignant  at 
him,  and  now  today  I  hear  that  he  is  a  son  of  Mrs.  Dae- 
ton's— Mr.  F.'s  little  old  housekeeper  and— mother! 

"What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  story,  Nad !  Oh,  the 
whole  thing  is  too  pitiful  and  too— almost— unbelievable. 

It  seems  that  years  ago,  in  Australia,  she  was  a  house- 
maid in  the  family  of  a  Mr.  Farringdon,  and  was  be- 

190 


FAMILY  GODS 

trayed  by  him  and  our  Mr.  Farringdon  was  the  fruit  of 
that  betrayal. 

She  was  turned  away  when  it  was  discovered  in  what 
condition  she  was  and  the  man,  the  brute!  let  her  go 
without  a  word ;  poor,  miserable  little  thing  that  she  was. 

The  story  was  told  to  me  of  her  struggles  just  to  keep 
alive ;  then  the  birth  of  the  baby,  and  the  added  effort  to 
keep  him  with  her,  until  finally  when  he  was  eight  years 
old  there  came  an  offer  from  some  well-to-do  childless 
people,  to  take  him  to  live  with  them,  to  educate  him  and 
start  him  in  life. 

Though  it  nearly  broke  her  heart  she  let  him  go  and 
for  years  saw  him  only  at  rare  intervals.  Then  she  met 
a  man  who  seemed  to  care  for  her  and  she,  poor,  hungry- 
hearted  woman,  craving  love  and  companionship,  mar- 
ried him  and  had  by  him  the  child  who  is  now  Philip 
Dacton,  the  man  whom  our  Phil  loves. 

After  a  few  wretched  years,  her  husband,  who  was  a 
drunkard  and  a  good-for-nothing,  was  providentially 
drowned  and  she  was  again  left  alone  to  fight  life. 

In  the  meantime,  the  people  who  had  taken  her  first 
child  had  met  with  reverses,  bad  years  when  their  sheep 
died  in  droves,  and  finally,  fearing  to  lose  all,  they  sold 
out  and  went  to  America,  settling  in  Illinois.  But,  whilst 
making  a  comfortable  living,  they  could  not  do  more  and 
at  last  when  Mr.  Farringdon,  who  was  then  known  as 
Alex  Duncan  (being  called  by  their  name)  was  twenty- 
one  they  let  him  go  out  into  the  world,  much  against 
their  heart's  desire,  but  thinking  it  better  for  him. 

Of  his  life  after,  I  will  some  time  tell  you.  It  is  a  long 
story  of  long  and  hard  struggle,  no  great  measure  of 
what  is  called  worldly  success. 

One  day  they  received  a  letter  from  a  Sydney  firm  of 
lawyers,  which  told  of  the  death  of  Alexander  Farring- 
don. and  of  a  will  leaving  all  of  his  immense  wealth  to 
the  child  he  had  had  by  one  Mary  Carrol,  now  Mrs.  Dac- 
ton. Our  Mr.  Farringdon  took  the  name,  entered  into 

191 


CHUMS 

possession  of  the  money,  hunted  for  and  finally  discov- 
ered his  mother,  established  her  in  a  home  of  her  own  and 
extended  his  goodness  to  Philip  Dacton,  his  half-brother. 
After  which  he  traveled  for  several  years,  finally  going 
back  to  Sydney  to  find  the  poor  little  mother  suffering 
because  of  the  disappearance  of  the  wild  boy.  He 
brought  her  to  America  and  bought  the  Farringdon 
place.  She  absolutely  insisted  upon  being  known  as  his 
housekeeper,  only,  although  he  wanted  to  give  her  every- 
thing and  do  everything  for  her. 

Then  they  hunted  for  the  lost  Philip,  first  in  England, 
where  he  had  gone  from  Australia,  then  in  South  Africa, 
and  when  all  trace  was  lost  of  his  whereabouts  and  they 
had  given  up  hope  of  finding  him — they  heard  that  a 
young  fellow  by  his  name  had  been  arrested  for  embez- 
zlement, and,  upon  going  to  see  him  in  prison,  found  him 
to  be  the  long  looked  for  lad. 

I  really  believe  that  poor  little  Mrs.  Dacton 's  only  com- 
fort is  the  thought  that  by  her  refusal  to  be  known  as 
Alex's  mother  she  has  saved  him  shame  and  pain. 

A  pitiful  story,  Nad,  I've  a  lump  in  my  throat  as  I 
write  it,  at  memory  of  that  poor  brave  soul's  face,  the 
pain  in  her  eyes  was  so  terrible.  Oh,  why  must  there  be 
such  things,  when  life  could  be  so  beautiful. 

Awfully  sorry,  dear  old  girl,  that  you  could  not  be 
with  us,  and  we  missed  you  muchly. 

Yours, 

KATHIE. 


JULY  26TH,  — 

Oh,  you  blessed  fraud !  you !  Mr.  Farringdon  has  been 
to  see  me  and  told  me  the  glad  tidings,  and  I  am  glad  be- 
yond words  to  express. 

The  dear  fellow  was  so  filled  with  joy  to  think  he  had 
won  you,  and  to  think  that  now  he  can  do  for  all  of  the 
brood!  His  plans  are  quite  princely,  and  if  he  dojes  a 

192 


FAMILY  GODS 

third  of  what  he  wants  to  for  you  all,  the  girls  will  be  ut- 
terly spoiled. 

The  new  joy  has  been  so  great  that  he  feels  the  little 
mother's  sorrow  only  for  her  sake  and  says  that  she  must 
take  her  proper  place  and  be  known  as  his  mother;  but 
after  what  you  have  told  me  of  that  small  woman's 
strength  of  determination,  I  do  not  believe  he  will  get  his 
way. 

He  has  so  many  plans,  that  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
the  immediate  ones  are. 

.  Does  this  break  up  the  housekeeping  scheme,  and  if  so, 
won't  there  be  a  row  and  a  pow-wow?  For  as  far  as  I 
can  make  out  no  inducements  he  could  hold  out  would 
compensate  for  the  loss  of  the  city  joys  the  girls  all  look 
forward  to. 

Write  me  all  about  everything.  Am  wild  with  curi- 
osity and  interest,  and  Kathie,  you  never  said  whether  or 
not  our  Phil  knew  about  Philip  Dacton's  relationship  to 
Mr.  F.,  or  Alex  as  he  says  he  is  to  be  called  from  now  on. 

Debbie  is  taking  the  best  care  of  me  and  is,  of  course, 
completely  happy  in  being  able  to  "boss  the  job."  She 
is  lost  in  admiration  of  the  way  Frau  S.  keeps  her  house, 
and  is  never  done  talking  of  how  spick  and  span  it  is. 
Am  just  realizing  how  terrible  a  trial  we  must  have  been 
to  the  dear  thing  all  these  years,  with  our  wild  Indian 
ways  and  general  untidiness.  She  also  greatly  approves 
of  Franz,  speaks  in  an  awed  way  of  his  good  looks  and 
evidently  envies  his  mother  her  luck  in  having  him.  I 
fancy  there  is  a  huge  amount  of  the  maternal  in  Debbie 
and  that  accounts  for  the  way  she  has  mothered  us  and 
put  up  with  us  all  these  years. 

There  are  many  of  these  dear  mother  women,  aren't 
there  ?  Tanta  Sophia  was  one,  too,  and  what  a  sin  it  is 
that  they  have  never  had  but  other  women 's  chicks  to  lav- 
ish the  love  upon.  Phil  said  one  day,  when  I  made  some 
such  remark,  that  they  were  not  to  be  pitied  for  they 
had  a  great  joy  in  ministering  without  the  pain  of  per- 

193 


CHUMS 

sonal  responsibility,  which  real  parents  feel  or  are  sup- 
posed to.  Phil  has  a  lot  of  theories  on  a  lot  of  subjects 
and  works  them  out  like  mathematical  calculations,  and 
ofttimes  your  reason  is  convinced,  but  your  heart  is  not, 
after  hearing  them. 

You  never  said  a  word  about  Frau  S.,  but  Franz  got 
a  yard  or  two  of  letter  from  her  by  the  same  mail  yours 
came  in,  and  she  gives  glowing  accounts.  Twenty-five- 
letter  words.  True,  I  counted  'em!  She  has  evidently 
lost  her  heart  to  the  family,  individually  and  collectively. 

There's  another  mother  woman.  Should  have  a  dozen 
children. 

Love  to  the  girls, 

NAD. 


JULY  30TH,  — 
NAD  DEAREST,— 

Alex  has  just  left  after  a  long  talk,  in  which  I  finally 
agreed  to  marry  him  at  once.  Then,  after  seeing  the 
chicks  settled  in  New  York  with  Mrs.  Dacton  to  mother 
them,— which  will  have  two  advantages,  give  the  dear 
little  soul  something  to  worry  over,  other  than  her  trou- 
ble personal,  and  be  a  restraining  influence  on  the  chicks, 
— Alex  and  I  will  go  abroad  for  a  year.  He  is  longing  to 
show  me  the  lovely  places  he  knows  and  I  am  longing  to 
see  them,  and  by  the  time  we  get  back  doubtless  the  girls 
will  have  had  enough  of  the  city  and  will  come  to  Far- 
ringdon  Hall  with  us,  where  Alex  will  quite  spoil  them, 
I  suppose. 

It  took  much  argument  and  a  bit  of  stringency  on 
Alex's  part  to  get  me  to  consent,  but  Nad,  dear,  I  am  wo- 
fully  tired  and  so,  so  glad  to  shift  responsibility  on  to 
his  broad  shoulders  and  tender  heart. 

I  am  filled  with  a  sense  of  great  thanksgiving  and  utter 
wonder.  What  have  I  done  to  merit  this  joy?  I  feel  very 
humble  and  a  bit  lachrymose. 

The  girls  have  been  told  and  they  have  nearly  taken 

194 


FAMILY  GODS 

the  roof  off  in  their  rejoicing.  Began  to  call  him  Alex  at 
once  and  the  brats  called  him  "Allie"!  Only  until  I 
could  get  them  alone  and  reason  with  them,  though,  but 
he  is  delighted  and  cannot  get  enough  of  all  this  friendli- 
ness. 

Everything  is  to  go  on  about  the  housekeeping  for  the 
girls  as  we  had  planned.  Alex  wanted  to  give  them 
carte  blanche  but  I  said  no !  After  this  year,  when  they 
are  back  again  with  us  he  may  do  many  things  for  them, 
but  not  until.  I  do  not  believe  one  of  them  has  given  a 
thought  to  his  money  and  their  joy  is  all  because  they  are 
so  fond  of  him.  He  told  them  his  story  and  his  mother 's. 
Told  it  so  beautifully,  so  tenderly  that  they  were  awed 
by  it,  and  when  we  went  to  the  Hall  they  were  too  dear 
for  anything  to  Mrs.  Dacton.  I  felt  so  proud  of  them! 
And  those  irrepressible  brats  began  to  chum  with  her  at 
once,  much  to  the  dear  woman 's  manifest  delight.  I  fear 
they  will  ride  rough-shod  over  her  in  town;  you  girls 
must  keep  them  a  bit  in  order  for  me. 

Phil  said  nothing  when  we  told  her,  absolutely  noth- 
ing. I  am  so  worried  over  the  form  her  sorrow  takes. 
That  numbness,  that  iciness  is  terrifying  to  me.  Poor, 
dear  old  girl,  how  my  heart  aches  for  her  and  I  feel  wo- 
fully  selfish  to  be  so  filled  with  joy  in  my  own  love,  whilst 
she  is  so  stricken  in  hers. 

Oh,  Nad,  I  never  thought  it  was  in  me  to  be  so  senti- 
mental, but,  do  you  know,  I  wish  Alex  were  poor  so  I 
could  work  for  and  with  him?  I  love  him  so,  I  would 
marry  him  if  he  were  a  day  laborer,  and  now  because  of 
all  this  brutal  money  I  can  never  prove  how  much  I  do 
love  him. 

Your  kind  Frau  S.  goes  home  on  Tuesday.  We  have 
quite  made  her  one  of  us  and  my  private  opinion  is,  that 
she  is  jealous  of  Mrs.  Dacton,  because  of  her  being  given 
the  care  of  the  girls.  Yes,  Nad,  she  is,  as  you  say.  one  of 
the  "mother  women"  and  the  grandchildren  will  be 
adored  by  her.  We  have  all  grown  to  love  her,  the  dear, 
kindly,  unselfish  thing. 

195 


CHUMS 

Have  decided  to  marry  Alex  on  the  10th  of  August,  so 
be  up  and  doing,  my  Nad.  Should  not  feel  that  I  was 
legally  bound  if  your  eyes  did  not  see  the  knot  tied. 

There  will  be  nothing  but  the  wedding  service  and 
breakfast  at  the  Hall.  Then  we  shall  all  flock  off  togeth- 
er by  the  afternoon  train  and  during  the  next  week  settle 
Mrs.  Dacton  and  the  girls  in  the  little  house,  and  on  the 
17th  we  will  sail  for  England. 

Love  to  you, 

KATHIE. 

P.  S.  Of  course  we  shall  go  to  Paris  and  look  up 
Docia  and  her  goslings.  My!  but  won't  there  be  a  clack- 
ing when  we  meet.  K. 


AUGUST  SBD,  — 

"Up  and  doing,"  won't  I  just  Kathie  dear,  if  I  have 
to  hobble  on  crutches ! 

You  have  arranged  it  beautifully,  but  I  do  feel  a  bit 
sorry  you  are  not  to  be  "bridey  and  satiney."  Still,  I 
think  you  are  right,  it  would  not  be  best  to  glorify  just 
now,  when  Alex's  poor  mother  is  in  such  trouble  and 
poor  Phil  so  unhappy,  but  not  every  woman  would  have 
thought  of  that  in  your  place. 

I  can  well  believe  that  no  one  of  you  has  had  a  thought 
for  Alex's  money.  Who  could,  after  knowing  him? 

Am  delighted  that  you  are  discovering  a  bit  of  what 
you  term  "sentimentality"  in  yourself.  Of  course  you 
wish  Alex  were  poor,  you  blessed  girl !  but  you  will  find 
that  you  can  prove  to  him  the  love  you  have  for  him, 
even  though  he  be  rich.  I  've  an  idea  that  there  are  plen- 
ty of  opportunities  in  every  married  life  for  that,  in  spite 
of  dollars. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  missing  the  fun  and  frolic  of 

196 


FAMILY  GODS 

Tillia  's  wedding  I  should  not  be  at  all  sorry  for  my  time 
of  semi-invalidism,  for  Debbie  has  been  a  perfect  slave 
to  me  and  Franz  has  read  to  me  and  amused  me  so  that 
the  days  have  fairly  flown.  Truly,  Kathie,  I  am  lost  in 
admiration  of  his  gifts  and  shall  in  time  become  recon- 
ciled to  his  clothes.  After  all,  what  does  it  matter  that 
a  man  wears  queer  shirts,  rather  impossible  ties,  and 
funny  boots? 

Am  dreading  Phil's  homecoming.  What  can  I  do  for 
her  if  she  will  not  talk  to  me  and  refuses  utterly  any  sym- 
pathy. Fortunately  she  will  be  very  busy,  for  to-day 
came  the  news  of  two  books  to  be  illustrated,  and  she  can, 
or  could  get  absolutely  lost  to  herself  and  the  world  in 
her  work,  you  know.  Franz  says  a  fine  engraver  is  lost 
in  Phil  and  thinks  she  should  take  up  etching  and  en- 
graving. Her  line  work  is  remarkably  good,  he  says.  I, 
myself  prefer  color  and  feel  a  lack  in  black  and  white, 
but  when  I  say  so  he  laughs  and  says,  "Butterfly." 
And  last  week,  when  I  was  washing  in  some  color  on  an 
etching  and  he  came  up  and  found  me  at  it,  he  was  pos- 
itively pained.  I  laughed,  his  expression  was  so  funny, 
but  I  teased  him  awhile,  then  affected  to  be  convinced  by 
his  arguments. 

The  house  for  the  chiefs  is,  I  hear  from  Debbie,  all 
ready  and  immaculate,  which  I  grin  to  think  of.  We 
know  how  long  it  will  stay  that  way  with  the  "lot  of 
'em." 

Our  chicks  go  in  on  Tuesday.  Such  wild  joy  you  never 
saw,  and  the  promises  they  have  made  and  will  promptly 
break,  would  fill  a  book.  Oh,  well,  they  are  dear  lot 
and  this  is  their  fun  time,  but  I  must  confess  I  should 
rather  Mrs.  Dacton  were  in  charge  than  myself.  I  hope 
for  the  sake  of  her  peace  of  mind  that  she  does  not  take 
the  position  too  seriously.  Better  give  her  a  hint. 

Love  to  you, 

NAD. 


197 


CHUMS 

AUGUST  4TH,  — 

Oh,  Kathie  dear,  I  won't  be  able  to  go  to  your  wed- 
ding. I  slipped  and  hurt  my  ankle  again  and  the  doctor 
looks  very  grave,  and  says  I  must  be  absolutely  quiet, 
and  threatens  to  put  on  a  plaster  cast. 
,  Am  just  heart  broken.  I  cried  until  I  was  a  fright  and 
got  into  such  a  rage  Debbie  was  cross  to  me  and  said  some 
horrid  things,  which  I  know  I  deserved,  but  truly  I  was 
so  upset  and  disappointed  I  could  not  help  myself. 

Franz  came  up  whilst  I  was  ' '  whirlwind  raising, ' '  and 
looked  so  surprised  and  troubled  that  I  laughed  and  then 
he  looked  so  relieved  that  I  laughed  again  and  peace  was 
restored.  But  Debbie  had  it  in  for  me,  as  the  brats  say, 
and  I  had  to  take  my  medicine  and  that  made  me  cross. 
Never  did  like  medicine. 

If  you  want  Frau  S.  to  remain,  keep  her,  for  every- 
thing is  apparently  going  on  well.  I  know  Franz  looks 
well  fed  and  Debbie  says  everything  still  shines. 

Am  lost  in  wonderment  over  the  man.  How  can  he  be 
so  manly  and  still  so  womaney — and  are  the  Germans  not 
funny? — Debbie  says  that  she  finds  him  cleaning  up  with 
one  of  the  Frau's  big  check  aprons  on  and  that  he  never 
seems  to  be  at  all  conscious,  or  appear  to  think  it  any- 
thing out  of  the  ordinary.  And  those  beautiful,  strong 
hands  of  his  never  show  to  "what  base  uses"  they  are 
put,  and  he  is  so  clean,  personally  so  fastidious  that  my 
heart  goes  out  to  him.  He  is  wholesome,  Kathie,  in  body 
and  mind. 

Oh  Kathie,  my  dear,  my  dear, — I  am  so  happy  for 
you.  You  ask  what  have  you  done  to  deserve  your  good 
fortune.  Well,  my  modest  violet,  if  you  could  hear  the 
things  we  all  say  of  you,  you  would  burst  with  pride  and 
we  think  you  are  getting  no  more,  not  one  whit  more  than 
you  should. 

All  love  and  the  best  of  wishes,  dearest. 

Am  sending  you  the  "The  Shepherd's  Calendar"  I 
illumined,  for  a  little  wedding  gift.  I  wish  it  were  more 

198 


FAMILY  GODS 

or  handsomer,  but  it  is  my  dearest  treasure  and  you  have 
always  loved  it,  so  take  it,  with  my  love. 

Yours, 

NAD. 

P.  S.     Keep  Phil  until  after  the  wedding.     NO  need 
for  her  to  come  back  for  only  a  few  days.  N. 


AUGUST 
MY  NAD,— 

It  won't  seem  half  so  sweet  to  me  without  your  dear 
face  amongst  the  others  and  I  feel  tempted  to  "rage" 
some,  myself,  over  this  second  accident, — poor  girlie!  but 
we  shall  see  you  day  after  tomorrow  and  comfort  you. 

Am  tired  but  happy.  In  fact,  that  seems  to  be  the  pre- 
dominant note.  We  are  a  bit  quiet,  the  lot  of  us.  Events 
seem  to  have  tumbled  over  the  heels  of  events,  so  fast  and 
so  thick  that  we  are  all  breathless,  and  then  the  thought 
of  this  general  exodus  from  the  old  nest  has  pulled  at  our 
heart  strings. 

We  have  not  thought  it  best  to  call  Tillia  back  from 
her  honeymoon,  or  rather  I  wrote  her  it  would  be  foolish 
to  upset  their  plans  for  the  one  day,  and  she  acquiesced 
in  a  very  sweet  letter.  Was  just  a  little  hurt  at  the  read- 
iness of  her  acquiescence,  but  that  was  sheer  selfishness 
on  my  part  and  I  take  myself  to  task  for  it. 

Expect  to  run  in  and  lunch  with  you  day  after  to- 
morrow, dear,  and  have  a  good  talk  before  I  go  on  to  the 
chicks. 

We  shall  stay  the  week  before  sailing  at  the  ' '  Gilsey ' ' 
and  see  you  all,  daily.  And  during  our  year  away,  you 
and  I  will  keep  up  the  letters,  as  we  have  in  the  past,  and 
will  each  have  new  interests  to  write  of,  dearest. 

For  the  last  time,  my  chum,  I  sign  myself, 

Your, 
KATHERINE  MEDWAY. 


199 


Life's  Great  Highway 


OW,  girls,  we  must  not  forget  that  there  is 
much  to  be  thankful  for.  We  are  all  well 
and  we  are  young.  You  know  how  often 
we  have  said  that  given  health,  we  would 
not  be  afraid  to  face  life  with  the  pro- 
verbial shilling,"  Honor  Brenning  spoke. 
"Oh,  yes,  we  have  said  that  and  many 
other  things— sort  of  thrown  the  gauntlet 
to  fate,  as  it  were,  but  then  we  had  Uncle  Mat  for  a  fairy 
godfather,  and  this  dear  old  place  to  be  confident  in.  I 
am  free  to  confess  that  I  am  not  nearly  so  certain  of  my 
particular  gift  for  wrestling  with  the  world,  now  that  the 
necessity  for  it  has  come. — Are  any  of  you?" 

And  Nalton  turned  to  her  sisters  inquiringly.  Four 
rather  despondent  pairs  of  eyes  looked  at  her,  and  only 
Honor,  the  first  speaker,  said  cheerfully,  — 

"Nonsense,  girls,  it's  only  because  of  the  suddenness 
of  it  all  that  you  feel  fearful.  You  know  we  always  have 
wanted  to  get  out  of  the  cotton  batting  sort  of  life  that 
we  have  had,  and  now  that  we  must,  for  goodness'  sake, 
do  not  be  so  feeble !  Why,  here  we  are,  six  of  us,  and  if 
we  cannot  make  a  home  for  ourselves  and  get  something 
out  of  life,  I  think  it's  strange.  I  never  felt  so  equal  to 
anything  as  I  do  now. ' ' 

This  time  the  eyes  were  turned  towards  her,  and  Thel- 
da,  the  youngest,  said  admiringly, — 

"Do  you  really,  Honor?  I  feel  a  perfect  human  jelly 
fish,  and  I  would  most  willingly  eat  my  words,  if  by  so 
doing  I  could  get  back  the  'cotton  batting'  days." 

Phoebe  took  the  poker  and  stirred  up  the  coals,  saying, 
"Honor's  right  and  we  are  a  lot  of  soft,  spoiled  ba- 
bies.   It  is  appalling  in  this  day  of  woman's  work  to  feel 
so  dismayed  because  we  must  earn  our  bread,  as  thou- 
sands of  women  and  girls  just  as  well  born,  just  as  ten- 

201 


CHUMS 

derly  nurtured  as  we  have  been,  do.  Well,  I  propose  to 
make  it  cake  and  enjoy  eating  it.  Let's  take  account  of 
stock.  Bliss,  get  some  paper  and  a  pencil.  Hon,  you  put 
it  all  down.  Let's  see,  how  would  we  best  commence? 
Oh,  I  know,  each  of  us  sum  up  her  individual  riches,  then 
the  things  that  we  can  all  use  we  will  call  common  prop- 
erty. Take  it  in  order  of  age.  Honor,  what  will  you  put 
down?" 

Honor  thought  for  a  moment,  then  wrote  down  the  fol- 
lowing,— 

"Clothes  enough  to  last  for  several  years." 

"Better  put  that  to  'common  property,'— I  find,  as  a 
rule,  one  of  you  has  on  the  thing  I  need  for  the  mo- 
ment. ' ' 

There  was  a  general  laugh. 

Then  "jewelry,  rather  handsome  and  considerable  of 
it,"— "We  will  convert  most  of  it  into  money— put  that 
on  the  same  list. ' ' 

"Various  articles  of  furniture  and  bric-a-brac,  same." 

"Books,  several  hundred,  I  will  not  put  on  the  list. 
Those  go  in  whatever  corner  I  have  for  my  own,  if  I  have 
to  sleep  on  the  floor  to  make  room  for  them." 

"Now,  Toney,  what  about  your  treasures?  It  strikes 
me,  girls,  that  there  is  going  to  be  a  sameness  about  the 
lists  that  will  not  make  for  interest,  considering  the  fact 
that  Uncle  Mat  always  gave  us  things  in  even  half-doz- 
ens, so  there  should  never  be  any  feeling  of  undue  par- 
tiality. So  we  all  have  about  the  same  things,  except  for 
small  individualities  that  we  have  supplied  ourselves 
with,  out  of  our  pocket  money.  Let  us  lump  the  jewelry 
and  sell  it.  Consider  that  we  have,  all  of  us,  clothes 
enough  for— what  was  the  term  of  years  you  said,  Hon  ? 
Oh,  yes,  several.  Lucky  we  have  home  talent  to  convert 
them,  when  necessary,  into  things  'a  la  mode'." 

Here  Bliss  interrupted, — 

' '  Oh,  Honor,  must  we  give  up  all  of  our  pretties  ?  I  'd 
rather  go  hungry." 

202 


LIFE'S    GREAT   HIGHWAY 

"No  you  wouldn't,"  interposed  Miriam,  "you  who 
look  peaked  and  big  eyed  if  you  are  not  fed  up  con- 
stantly with  the  best  the  market  affords,  and  anyway, 
Bliss,  considering  the  fact  that  we  must  from  now  on  be 
'work  ladies/  jewelry  will  be  out  of  place  and  in  bad 
taste.  Of  course  we  shall  keep  our  watches  and  a  few  lit- 
tle things,  but  everything  purely  ornamental  will  have 
to  go.  Good  gracious!  child,  you  don't  seem  to  realize 
that  we  literally  have  not  a  cent  in  the  world,  or  won't 
have  after  all  this  mourning  is  paid  for." 

' '  Oh,  poor  Uncle  Mat,  I  do  hope  he  does  not  know  how 
things  are  here,  for  he  could  not  rest  if  he  did,"  said 
Phoebe. 

"I'm  glad  you  sat  on  old  Welch  properly  when  he 
said  Uncle  had  been  criminally  careless  because  he  had 
left  no  will  and  we  found  ourselves  'plante  Id.1  I  fancy 
if  we  do  not  feel  bitter  it  is  not  the  business  of  any  old 
lawyer  Johnny  to  feel  or  say  things."  And  Thelda 
looked  fierce. 

' '  Girls,  girls,  this  is  what  is  termed  digression, ' '  Honor 
interrupted,  "we  shall  have  ample  time  to  go  into  that 
later,  but  as  we  must  leave  on  Wednesday  and  to-day  is 
Saturday,  we'd  best  come  to  some  sort  of  a  decision." 

After  much  talking  it  was  decided  that  they  take  a 
flat,  which  they  knew  of  as  being  tenantless,  on  142d 
Street,  and  in  the  same  building  where  some  friends 
lived.  The  rent  would  be  moderate,  they  would  have 
enough  with  their  various  personal  possessions  to  make  it 
comfortable  and  pretty,  and  after  getting  settled  they 
would  go  to  work.  This  going  to  work  was  to  each  and 
all  a  sort  of  nightmare,  but  no  one  betrayed  the  fact  ex- 
cept Bliss  who  openly  lamented. 

The  jewelry  they  would  ask  Mr.  Bliss  to  dispose  of  for 
them,  and  what  it  would  bring  they  would  put  by  to  use 
only  when  absolutely  necessary. 

On  Monday  they  went  up  in  a  body  to  look  at  the  flat, 
which  being  satisfactory,  they  rented,  agreeing  to  pay 
fifty  dollars  a  month  on  a  year's  lease.  There  were  seven 

203 


CHUMS 

rooms,  all  small,  but  conveniently  arranged,  and  being 
on  the  top  floor  they  could  use  the  roof  to  which  their 
flat  had  a  flight  of  steps,  so  they  decided  to  convert  it  into 
a  lounge  during  the  warm  weather  by  the  aid  of  awnings, 
wicker  chairs  and  tables,  and  boxes  and  pots  of  flowers. 

As  they  sat  about  on  the  window  ledges  of  the  front 
room,  which  was  to  be  their  general  sitting  room,  they 
planned  to  get  in  by  Wednesday  noon,  so  it  was  settled 
that  Honor  and  Thelda  should  get  the  necessities  on  the 
following  day  whilst  the  others  attended  to  the  packing 
and  arranging  of  the  things  they  were  to  bring  from  the 
old  home. 

"There  really  is  not  much  to  get,  girls,"  said  Honor, 
as  she  consulted  her  list  for  the  tenth  time.  "In  these 
modern  flat  houses  so  many  things  are  built  in— even  in 
these  cheaper  ones — that  one  can  set  up  housekeeping  at 
a  day's  notice.  Now  let  us  run  in  an.**  say  a  word  to 
Patty  and  get  back  to  work." 

Wednesday  at  five-thirty  saw  them  again  gathered  in 
the  flat  with  trunks,  grips,  baskets,  boxes  and  all  of  the 
paraphernalia  of  the  modern  girl,  multiplied  by  six, 
about  them,  and  their  first  meal  was  eaten  as  they  found 
what  resting  places  they  could  amongst  the  confusion. 

They  were  in  wild  spirits,  for  the  pendulum  had 
swung  back  and  now  that  the  wrench  of  parting  from 
the  dear  old  familiar  place  and  things  was  over  there  was 
a  feeling  of  exhilaration  in  this  radical  change  and  what 
it  presaged  of  interests  and  activities  new  to  these  girls 
who  had  been  born  with  what  is  termed  "tempera- 
ments",— which  are  sometimes  good  things  to  have,  best 
to  have  probably  when  the  owners,  by  some  fluke  of  for- 
tune, have  to  take  up  lives  that  are  strenuous;  not  good 
things  to  have,  given  a  too  settled  life  plan  with  its  al- 
most certain  monotony. 

After  the  sandwiches  were  finished  and  the  tea  drunk, 
they  went  busily  to  work  and  before  midnight  had  things 
quite  a  bit  arranged. 

Their  collected  treasures  ' '  made  quite  a  brave  showing 

204 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

an  the  small  rooms  and  left  few  bare  spaces,"  as  Bliss 
replied,  when  Tony  looking  about,  said, — 

' '  Thank  goodness,  we  look  furnished.  I  was  fearful  it 
might  look  dreary  and  sort  of  impoverished." 

"Well,  Tony,  when  you  think  what  a  lot  of  us  there 
.are,  not  to  mention  our  possessions,  it  could  hardly  look 
empty,  you  know.  Six  large  women  in  seven  small  rooms ! 
I  feel,  for  one,  as  though  I  was  quite  indecently  long  and 
broad."  They  all  laughed  and  admitted  feeling  the 
same. 

Presently  Honor  said,— 

' '  I  am  simply  starved  and  never  felt  so  wide  awake  in 
my  life,  let 's  have  a  spread.  It  won 't  matter  if  we  don 't 
get  up  early  tomorrow,  for  so  much  has  been  done  to- 
night. Come  out  to  the  kitchen  and  let  us  try  that  ducky 
little  gas  stove." 

By  Saturday  ^erything  was  in  its  place  and  it  had 
been  arranged  ^pt  until  it  was  definitely  decided  how 
their  time  would  be  filled,  there  should  be  an  equal 
division  of  labor. 

Thelda  and  Bliss,  being  the  best  cooks  and  liking  the 
work,  were  detailed  to  keep  them  fed.  Phoebe  and  Tony 
would  do  the  cleaning  and  dusting,  and  Honor  and  Mir- 
iam would  take  charge  of  the  commissary  department 
and  do  any  of  the  things  the  others  could  not  or  would 
not. 

By  the  end  of  the  following  week  they  had  become 
used  to  the  somewhat  straitened  quarters  and  things  were 
.all  arranged  comfortably.  Sunday  they  decided  to  give 
up  to  settling  their  plans.  So,  after  the  rooms  had  been 
put  in  order  and  a  brisk  walk  taken,  at  three  o'clock  they 
settled  down  to  a  "  pow  wow. ' ' 

"Every  bill  is  paid,  and  we  can  approximately  tell 
what  our  expenses  are  going  to  be,"  said  Honor,  note- 
book and  pencil  in  hand.  "The  balance  in  the  bank  is 
eleven  hundred  and  ten  dollars  from  the  sale  of  the  jew- 
elry "- 

"Make  it  an  even  eleven  hundred,  Hon,"  said  Bliss. 

205 


CHUMS 

"I  want  that  ten  awfully,  I'm  the  only  one  whose  pock- 
et-book is  quite  flat. ' ' 

"What  did  you" — began  Phoebe, — 

' '  Yes,  what  did  I  do  with  the  four  dollars  you  gave  me 
last  week,  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  ask.  Well,  I  am 
not  your  wife,  and  I  refuse  flatly  to  give  an  account  of 
my  pennies,  must  I,  Hon  ? ' ' 

"See  here,  Bliss,  until  we  get  to  earning  something, 
each  one  of  us,  we  must  not  spend  an  unnecessary  cent, 
and  now  let's  get  to  work.  Don't  squabble,  girls.  I 
know  it's  half  of  it  fun,  but  it's  a  bad  habit  and,  now 
that  we  live  in  each  other's  pockets,  could  easily  get  to  be 
horrid.  Phcebe,  don't  put  on  such  a  superior  air,  Bliss 
has  evidently  spent  her  money,  so  let  it  go  at  that.  If 
you  want  to  really  demonstrate  your  own  cleverness,  tell 
us  how  you  happen  to  have  any  left,  yourself,  for  I 
think  you're  the  only  one  who  has." 

"Not  so  much  as  a  quarter  have  I,"  said  Nalton,  turn- 
ing her  purse  inside  out. 

"I've  two  dimes  and  some  pennies,"  Miriam  owned. 
"Bliss,  we  have  just  been  informed,  is  absolutely  busted 
and  so  are  you,  Hon,  Phoebe's  our  capitalist— the  bloated 
plutocrat  of  the  family — how  much  have  you  left, 
Phoebe?" 

"Well,  except  twenty  cents,  I  have  all  of  the  ten  dol- 
lars that  Honor  gave  each  of  us.  I  thought  we  had  to 
be  careful,  so  I  did  not  spend  anything  except  that  car- 
fare." 

A  shout  went  up. 

"Oh,  you  blessed  thing,  you  are  the  most  downright 
literal  character  I  know, ' '  laughed  Bliss. 

"She  is  perfectly  right,  girls,"  said  Honor,  "and  it 
shows  how  much  more  self  control  and  realization  of  the 
condition  she  has  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us,  good  old 
girl!"  And  she  leaned  over  and  patted  the  shoulder 
near  her.  "Now,  to  business— I'll  take  you  first,  Phcebe, 
what  are  your  plans  for  dollar  earning  ? ' ' 

"Teach  Fanny  and  Grace  March,  French  and  drawing 

206 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

from  ten  to  eleven-thirty  five  days  a  week  for  twenty 
dollars  a  month.  Two  afternoons  a  week  go  to  Mrs.  Alt- 
good  to  write  letters,  read  aloud  and  make  myself  gener- 
ally useful  in  that  sort  of  way,  for  ten  dollars  a  month ; 
total,  thirty  dollars  a  month. ' ' 

"Whew,"  whistled  Bliss,  "how,  did  you  get  them?" 

"Went  and  asked  for  the  work  and  got  it.  I  fancy  I 
must  have  rated  my  services  rather  low,  but  I  guessed  at 
the  value,  for  they  both  jumped  at  the  chance  and  I  have 
been  so  uncomfortable  ever  since,  lest  I  may  have  ousted 
someone  else." 

"No,  I  don't  think  you  did,  Phoebe,  for  I  remember 
hearing  oh,  as  much  as  six  months  ago,  that  they  were 
each  looking  for  someone  to  take  those  positions." 

"How  were  they,— nice?"  asked  Nalton. 

Phcebe  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Oh,  yes,  nice  enough,  but  not  the  same  kind  of 
'nice'.  I  learned  my  first  lesson  in  the  proper  gradations 
of  manner  with  them. ' ' 

' '  Shall  you  mind  doing  it  ? "  enquired  Nalton. 

' '  I  can  tell  you  better  in  a  month,  but  I  have  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  will  do  my  best.  After  all  I  shall  have 
two  entire  days  and  four  half -days  free,  and  that  is  so 
much  better  than  being  cooped  up  from  nine  until  three, 
or  eight  until  five,  as  I  should  if  I  took  a  position  as 
teacher  or  did  office  work,  and  I  am  going  to  try  for  some 
illuminating  to  do.  Remember  Dimples  told  us  how  well 
she  did  and  she  said  my  work  was  quite  as  good  as  hers. 
Anyway  there  is  thirty  dollars  a  month  towards  the  ex- 
penses. ' ' 

A  little  silence  fell  upon  the  others  after  Phoebe  fin- 
ished speaking.  Her  quiet  acceptance  of  the  position  and 
her  having  gone  about  its  bettering  so  immediately  and 
practically,  made  the  sisters  feel  what  they  had  often  felt 
before  less  strongly,— Pho?be's  inherent  strength  and 
force,  hidden  though  it  was,  under  the  rather  placid  and 
quiet  exterior. 

207 


CHUMS 

At  last  Honor  said,— 

"Tour's  next,  Nalton." 

The  girl  lifted  distressed  eyes  to  her  sister  and  an- 
swered,— 

"Positively  Hon,  I  am  ashamed,  but  I  have  not  the  re- 
motest idea  what  to  do  or  how  to  go  about  doing  it.  I  do 
not  seem  to  have  a  single  talent,  nor  do  I  know  anything 
well  enough  to  teach  it,  and  I  would  rather  scrub  floors 
than  teach,  anyway.  It  looks  as  though  I  should  have 
to  go  behind  a  counter,  doesn  't  it  ?  " 

' '  Oh,  no,  you  shall  not ! ' '  cried  all  of  them. 

1 '  But  what  else  can  I  do  ?" 

''Well,  let  that  drop  for  the  moment,  I  have  an  idea 
which  I  will  give  you  after  awhile, ' '  said  Honor.  ' '  Now, 
Bliss?" 

Bliss  squirmed  and  looked  miserable. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  be  a  nursery  govern- 
ess. I'd  rather  that  than  a  counter,  but " 

"Now  see  here,  girls,  before  we  go  any  further,"  said 
Honor,  laughing,  "possibly  it  is  as  well  to  suggest  that 
this  really  is  a  case  where  bread  and  butter  must  be 
earned;  and  may  I  remind  you  of  the  fact  that  only  a 
short  week  ago  we  were  all  of  us  thrilling  at  the  thought 
of  our  'liberty  of  action,'  that  is,  all  but  Bliss.  I  must 
do  her  the  justice  to  admit  she  groaned.  Now,  my  vicar- 
ious experience  has  taught  me  that  a  good  deal  lies  in 
Our  own  attitude  towards  work,  whatever  it  is,  and  if  we 
will  try  to  like  it  we  can,  and  get  a  lot  of  fun  out  of  life, 
too.  Look  at  all  of  Theo's  chums— they  are  the  nicest 
and  jolliest  lot  of  women  I  ever  knew,  yet  they  are  not 
exactly  what  can  be  called  drones,  now,  are  they?" 

"No,  they're  not,  go  on,  Hon,  we  won't  shirk  any 
more, ' '  said  Miriam.  ' '  My  turn  next,  is  it  not  ?  Well,  I 
am  to  be  office  lady  for  Madame  Sancho.  Went  yester- 
day and  told  her  I  had  to  go  to  work  and  asked  her  if  I 
could  not  replace  Miss  Neal,  the  woman  she  has  now, 
who  is  to  be  married  shortly.  Oh,  we  had  quite  a  'heart 

208 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

to  heart'  talk,  and  the  kind  old  thing  wept  over  our 
financial  downfall  as  though  she  were  an  old  friend.  I 
am  to  go  on  the  first.  Lucky  for  me  I  have  what  Ma- 
dame calls  a  'most  engaging  manner'  for  it's  principally 
that  that's  wanted.  The  system  of  bookkeeping  a  small 
child  could  attend  to,  but  I  am  to  meet  the  customers  and 
hypnotize  them  into  ordering  two-hundred-and-fifty-dol- 
lar  gowns  when  they  come  with  the  firm  intention  of  be- 
ing economical,  you  know,  as  Miss  Neal  used  to  do  with 
us.  It  will  be  great  larks  and  I  shall  not  mind  it  at  all. 
The  pay  is  forty-five  and  the  hours  eighty-thirty  to  five." 
"You  sly  thing!  and  you  never  said  a  word,  neither 
you  nor  Phrebe!  Well,  that's  a  big  load  off  my  mind," 
said  Honor.  "Now  Thelda,  speak  your  little  piece, 
honey." 

Thelda  looked  up  amusedly  and  answered, — 
"You  are  going  to  get  the  shock  of  your  lives,  girls, 
catch  your  breath,  I  am  going  to  be  cashier  in  a  ten-cent 
restaurant !  I  knew  you  would  be  amazed  but  here's  how 
it  happened.  You  know  cook's  brother  had  such  a  suc- 
cess with  that  waffle  kitchen  of  his  that  he  is  going  to 
open  another,  and  I  heard  cook  telling  Kate  one  day  so  I 
asked  her  to  speak  to  her  brother  for  me.  She  nearly 
dissolved  in  'weeps'  and  would  not  hear  of  it  until  I 
threatened  to  go  somewhere  else  if  she  did  not.  Then 
she  gave  in.  And  I  am  to  sit  on  a  high  chair  behind  a 
cash-register  and  take  dimes,  likewise  keep  my  eagle  eye 
open  to  see  that  things  go  smoothly.  Won't  it  be  fun? 
I  am  as  pleased  as  Punch  over  it.  Always  did  long  to  be 
where  I  could  watch  people  and  particularly  the  bread 
and  butter  getters !  And  my  salary  is  to  be  seven  and  a 
half  a  week,  but  I  do  not  have  to  get  there  until  eleven 
and  I  can  leave  at  five— it's  only  a  lunch  and  tea  place. 
Mr.  Finn  wanted  to  give  me  more,  but  whilst  I  appreci- 
ated his  kindness, — nice  old  fellow!— I  did  not  propose 
to  be  under  obligations  to  my  ex-cook's  brother,  so  I 
found  out  what  his  other  cashier  got  and  that  settled  it." 

209 


CHUMS 

"So, — three  of  you  have  had  your  little  plans  laid  and 
never  said  a  word — I  suppose  you  told  each  other, 
though?" 

The  girls  laughed. 

"That's  the  funny  part.  None  of  us  knew  a  word 
about  the  others  until  just  now.  We  were  evidently  each 
intending  to  be  the  'entire  show'  in  the  surprise  line." 

"What  is  your  plan,  Honor?"  asked  Nalton.  "I  feel 
completely  crushed.  It  looks  as  though  I  am  to  be  the 
only  unenterprising  one.  Bliss  doesn't  count,  she's  just 
a  pretty  spoiled  baby,  anyway. ' ' 

"I  will  tell  you  my  part,  first,"  answered  Honor,  "and 
you  can  come  in  if  you  want  to,  honey.  In  fact,  I  hope 
you  will.  I  am  going  to  open  a  dancing-school  and  I 
want  your  help. 

"Oh,  how  jolly!  let  me,  too,"  said  Bliss,  waking  up. 
"I  can  dance  if  I  can't  do  anything  else,  and  Nalton  can 
play  for  us.  She  always  could  keep  time.  I  can  play, 
but  I'm  no  good  at  dance  music." 

"Well,  last  year  at  W.,  when  we  were  there,  I  heard 
so  many  mothers  grumbling  over  the  fact  that  the  chil- 
dren had  to  be  sent  to  town  for  their  lessons  and  wishing 
that  a  good  teacher  would  open  a  class  there,  that  the 
thought  came  to  me — after  the  necessity  for  work  came 
— to  open  a  school,  say  lessons  twice  a  week.  I  think  I 
can  get  the  hall  there  and  I  will  go  tomorrow  and  make 
certain ;  likewise  see  the  many  '  Mamas '  and  find  out  just 
how  things  can  be  arranged.  I  rather  fancy  it  will  be 
acceptable,  and  if  Nalton  will  play  and  you,  Bliss,  will 
help  teach,  we  ought  to  be  able  to  take  a  great  many  pu- 
pils and  1  have  thought  of  a  number  of  new  features 
quite  different  from  the  ordinary  dancing  school,  that 
will,  I  am  certain,  make  it  popular.  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  go  to  some  expense  in  fixing  up,  but  if  I  can  get, 
say,  fifty  pupils  promised,  that  can  be  considered  all 
right. 

Now,  let's  see  just  how  we  stand. 

210 


Phoebe,  thirty. 

Miriam,  forty-five. 

Thelda,  twenty-eight  or  thirty-two. 

The  rest  of  us  yet,  uncertain.  Anyway,  we  can  live 
on  a  hundred,  rent  inclusive." 

' '  Oh,  Hon,  it 's  impossible ! ' ' 

"No,  it's  not.  I  have  it  down  in  black  and  white.  As 
I  shall  be  the  one  with  the  most  time,  I  will  be  the  '  haus- 
frau'  and  banker.  You  can  each  do  your  share  of  the 
work  before  you  leave,  mornings,  and  the  things  you  have 
no  time  for  Nalton  and  Bliss  must  do.  That  will  keep  us 
all  busy  and  yet  no  one  will  be  an  actual  slave.  In  fact, 
really,  we  shall  have  almost  too  much  time,  but  that  is 
nice.  I  had  rather  feared  that  we  might  have  to  take  po- 
sitions where  we  should  be  tied  down  to  too  long  hours, 
but  this  way  we  can  go  on  with  our  pet  fads  almost  as 
well  as  before." 

The  hall  was  rented,  a  piano  moved  in,  a  dainty  dress- 
ing room  arranged,  the  floor  polished.  Pupils  flocked  to 
the  class  and  at  the  end  of  the  month  it  was  found  that 
Honor  had  been  justified  in  her  idea.  She  had  changed 
the  ugly,  big  room,  by  having  the  walls  tinted  a.  soft, 
dull  red;  hanging  baskets  and  stands  of  potted  plants 
filled  windows  and  corners.  Comfortable  seats  were  ar- 
ranged for  the  mothers  and  governesses,  and  the  little 
maid  in  attendance,  in  smart  cap,  cuffs  and  apron,  served 
tea  to  all  of  the  older  ones,  who  played  audience. 

Honor,  Nalton  and  Bliss  dropped  their  mourning  for 
the  class  days  and  looked  their  freshest  and  nicest  in 
pretty  frocks,  so  that  the  class  days  became  sort  of  so- 
cial reunions,  and  the  mothers,  aunts  and  older  sisters 
looked  forward  to  them  as  well  as  the  children.  Honor 
had  introduced  several  innovations  and  things  went  mer- 
rily. 

The  girls'  brave  acceptance  of  their  altered  fortunes 
and  evident  intention  of  making  the  best  of  things  ap- 
pealed to  the  hearts  of  these  people,  who  had  known  them 

211 


CHUMS 

during  their  uncle's  life  when  it  was  supposed  that  his 
great  fortune  would  some  day  be  theirs,  as  the  good  man 
had  fully  intended  it  to  be;  but  Death  had  come  unex- 
pectedly, suddenly,  and  the  man  in  his  prime  was  taken, 
without  having  time  for  carrying  out  his  plans  for  them. 


The  six  girls  sat  about  the  tea-table,  one  afternoon  a 
year  after  their  installation  and  the  beginning  of  the 
new  life,  laughing  over  Miriam's  accounts  of  the  happen- 
ings of  the  day  at  Madame  Sancho's  and  Phoebe  said, — 

"It  strikes  me  that  we  have  all  of  us  made  strides  in 
development,  I  know  for  one,  I  have;  at  least  I  have 
learned  to  feel  quite  indifferent  to  the  atrocities  of  the 
March  children.  You  remember  how  we  'scorned  at'  the 
Heavenly  Twins  as  being  impossible  children?  I  scorn 
no  more.  The  outrages  these  March  darlings  are  guilty 
of  put  the  H.  T.  's  in  the  shade,  but  I  do  not  have  murder 
in  my  heart  any  more  for  them,  thanks  be !  and  I  have 
even  acquired  a  sort  of  liking  for  old  Mrs.  Altgood,  so  I 
consider  I  have  done  something  worth  while." 

"Yes,  you  have  that,  and  you  have  had  by  far  the 
worst  of  things.  The  rest  of  us  have  been  pretty  lucky 
and  got  more  fun  than  annoyance  out  of  our  work." 

"I  get  the  most  fun,"  said  Miriam,  "you  would  say 
so,  all  of  you,  if  you  could  go  through  just  one  day  with 
me.  Human  nature,  feminine  human  nature  is  awliilly 
quaint  and  maybe  I  do  not  get  it  *au  naturel'  at  Ma- 
dame's.  I  can't  say  I  am  altogether  lost  in  admiration 
of  it,  but  it  is  certainly  funny. 

"Yes,"  interposed  Thelda,  "you  come  into  cor, tact 
with  the  rich,  fussy  sort,  whose  todays  and  tomorrows 
are  consumed  in  the  arduous  duties  of  adornment,  prin- 
cipally, but  I  see  the  ones  to  whom  life  is  a  serious  thing: 
whose  todays  are  counted  lucky  that  give  a  lunch  at 
Finn's,  and  whose  tomorrows  are  more  or  less  problem- 

212 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

atical.  I  have  got  so  now  that  I  can  pretty  well  tell  by 
the  orders  given  how  the  finances  stand,  and  there  is  one 
girl  who  is  a  constant  source  of  interest  to  me.  She  is 
possessed  of  two  appetites,  one  for  clothes,  the  other  for 
food,  and  when  I  see  her  «in  a  new  article  of  apparel 
I  know  that  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time  she  is  going  to 
have  bean  soup  and  mince  pie.  Occasionally  there  come 
a  few  days  when  she  indulges  in  soup  and  stew  with  ice 
cream,  but  that's  between  seasons  when  the  shop  win- 
dows are  a  bit  dull  and  there  are  no  feathers,  flowers  or 
novelties  on  view.  She  is  a  pretty  thing  too,  pity  that 
someone  cannot  make  her  see  that  her  prettiness  really 
does  not  need  anything  to  set  it  off,  but  possibly  a  trifle 
more  of  soap  and  water. ' ' 

Honor  nodded. 

"Yes,  I  used  to  wonder  why  people  of  the  working 
class  could  not  wear  simple,  sensible  things,  before  I  be- 
longed to  said  class,  but  I  found  myself  stopping  a  dozen 
times  in  my  walk  down  town  yesterday,  to  look  at  and 
desire  the  things  I  saw  in  the  windows." 

"Why  will  they  wear  cheap  hats  with  flowers  and 
feathers  that  look  shabby  in  a  week?  Why  wear  silk 
waists  that  crack  and  fade  ?  Why  not  plain  walking  hats 
and  shirtwaists  that  can  be  washed" 

"Just  because  they  long  for,  hunger  for  the  articles 
prettier,  in  their  eyes,  at  least" — 

"Oh,  yes,  it's  a  hunger  as  great,  if  not  greater  than 
the  actual  physical  kind.  Thelda  's  girl  of  the  bean  soup 
and  pie  is  an  example.  Poor  dears !  I  wish  every  one  of 
them  could  have  bushels  of  flo\vers  and  yards  of  feath- 
ers," put  in  Bliss. 

The  others  shouted. 

"Poor  old  baby,  does  it  want  some  new  pretties?" 
asked  Honor.  "Well,  I  don't  know  why  it's  out  of  the 
question.  We  are  all  of  us  getting  on  and  putting  some- 
thing away  for  that  proverbial  rainy  day,  and  we  have 
faithfully  refrained  from  buying  a  single  article  of  cloth- 

213 


CHUMS 

ing  or  adornment  since  a  year  ago.  Yes,  I  think  we 
might  all  indulge  in  pretties." 

Bliss  gave  a  sigh  of  complete  satisfaction.  "Pearl 
gray  cloth  suit,  pearl  gray  Neapolitan  straw  toque  with 
rose  buds  and  cut  steel  buckle,  and  one  of  the  newest  and 
loveliest  lingerie  waists— that  will  be  mine!" 

Every  one  laughed  at  her  absorbed  expression. 


One  late  afternoon  the  door  into  the  sitting  room  was 
cautiously  opened,  an  enquiring  eye  peered  in  and  then 
the  door  was  closed  as  cautiously,  no  one  noticing  but 
Phoebe,  who  rose  presently  and  went  out. 

"What  is  it,  Hon?"  she  asked,  going  into  the  little 
kitchen  where  Honor  was  busying  herself. 

"Oh,  you  saw  me,  did  you?  That's  all  right,  I  wanted 
to  catch  your  eye,  if  I  could — are  the  others  safe  for  the 
moment  ?  I  want  to  show  you  something. ' ' 

"Yes,  they  are  all  busy,  what  is  it?"  taking  the  folded 
paper. 

"Read  it!"    Phoebe  opened  the  note  and  read, — 

' '  My  Dearest  Girl :  For  goodness '  sake  do  not  at  this 
late  date  get  attacks  of  conscience,  it  would  be  too  ab- 
surd,—but  put  on  your  prettiest  and  meet  me  at  the 
'Met.',  at  the  usual  time— there  will  be  a  lot  of  charming 
people  at  Sam's,  and  we  shall  have  a  jolly  time. 

Tell  that  dragon  of  yours,  if  she  asks  questions,  that 
you  are  going  over  to  Belle's  to  dinner  and  to  stay  the 
night,  you  can  go  over  there  to  sleep,  for  I  asked  Belle, 
and  she  said  she  would  be  delighted. 

Youra, 

HOBTILLIA.  ' ' 

Phoebe  looked  up  and  Honor  said, — 

"It  fell  out  of  Bliss's  pocket  and  I  picked  it  up  and 
read  it  before  I  realized.  I  am  the  'dragon,'  evidently, 
but  why?  And  see  here,  Phoebe,  I  have  been  afraid  of 
this  for  some  time,  Bliss  is  such  a  pretty,  silly,  lovable 

214 


LIFE'S    GREAT   HIGHWAY 

thing,  that  of  course  it's  out  of  the  question  to  think  she 
is  not  going  to  want  and  to  get  the  fun  and  frolic  she 
thinks  hers  by  right  of  her  youth  and  her  prettiness,  and 
I  want  her  to  have  a  jolly  time,— but  I  do  not  want  her 
to  go  with  Hortillia  Brooks  and  her  crowd— the  tone  is 
horrid,  I  think.  I  may  be  old  fashioned,  but  I  don't  like 
it,  and  for  goodness '  sake  why  this  mystery  anyway,  why 
the  fibs?" 

Phcebe  laughed  as  she  looked  at  Honor's  indignant 
face. 

"Want  the  truth,  Honor?" 

"Of  course." 

"Well,  you  have  always  lorded  it  over  us,  you  know, 
because  of  your  few  years '  seniority,  you  have  been  rath- 
er what  Kathie  was  with  her  girls,  and  whilst  the  rest  of 
us  have  not  minded  much,  Bliss  is  such  a  soft  little  cow- 
ard that  she  would  rather  keep  her  small  secrets  to  her- 
self than  expose  them  to  your  notions,  sometimes  a  trifle 
severe.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  this?"  hand- 
ing back  the  note. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  her  I  read  it  and  ask  her  why  she 
cannot  be  frank.  I  suppose  'Sam'  is  Sam  Allinson,  the 
painter,  that  chum  of  the  Brook's,  and  it  is  to  be  one  of 
those  studio  affairs  that  fills  Kathie  with  disgust  and 
Hortillia  with  delight.  Well,  Bliss  is  of  age,  I  cannot 
prevent  her  doing  as  she  wants  and  I  certainly  shall  not 
gain  her  confidence  by  going  against  her,  but  I  do  wish 
she  would  marry  that  nice  Harry  Miller  whom  we  all  like 
and  know." 

"Well,  she  won't,  my  dear  Hon,  that's  certain;  he  is 
altogether  too  everything  he  ought  to  be,  Bliss  wants 
more  romance ! ' ' 

Miriam  came  in  as  Phcebe  said  this,  and  laughed  out- 
right. 

' '  Bliss  wants  romance.  Oh  you  two  blind  geese !  What 
our  Bliss  wants  and  intends  to  have  is  all  of  the  soft 
things  of  life,  the  luxurious  things,  the  things  that  make 

215 


CHUMS 

for  enjoyment;  our  Bliss  is  materialism  personified,  and 
I  am  surprised  that  you  have  not  seen  it.  What's  up 
anyway?"  as  she  looked  at  her  sisters. 

Honor  told  her. 

"Oh,  don't  worry,  I  know  all  about  it,  there's  to  be  a 
studio  tea  at  Mr.  Allinson's,  a  trip  to  the  other  side  of 
the  city  for  a  dinner  at  a  dirty,  little,  dago  restaurant 
which  is  supposed  to  be  'killingly  artistic,'  and  after  that 
she  is  to  go  to  Belle's  for  the  night.  It's  all  harmless 
enough,  but  the  element  of  the  '  out  of  the  ordinary, '  the 
sort  of  emancipation  seems  to  appeal  to  the  girls;  any- 
way Hon,  you  need  have  no  slightest  fear  of  Bliss  doing 
anything  that  would  be  romantic — such,  for  instance,  as 
marrying  a  poor  artist,  as  Hortillia  did.  That  is  the 
very  last  thing  she  will  do. 

I  heard  some  people  talking  of  Hortillia  today  at  Ma- 
dame 's ;  it  is  too  bad  she  is  so  thoughtless  and  careless  of 
opinion,  for  really,  I  do  not  think  it  is  anything  more 
than  that.  What  remarkable  beauty  the  girl  has.  I  saw 
her  as  I  was  coming  home  and  positively  she  is  rather 
striking. 

I  think  you'd  best  go  hunt  up  Bliss  now,  Hon,  and 
give  her  back  her  note,  and  have  it  out;  but  whatever 
you  do,  don't  make  her  feel  like  a  criminal  because  of 
her  small  deception." 

As  Honor  went  out,  Miriam  said  to  Phrebe, — 

' '  This  being  one  of  a  large  family  has  its  disadvantages 
at  times,  but  on  the  whole  we  are  a  very  happy  lot,  and 
have  almost  no  friction,  don't  we?  Poor  old  Hon!  she's 
such  a  dear !  but  she  really  is  a  bit  old  fashioned. ' ' 

A  couple  of  weeks  after  this  conversation  Bliss  said  at 
dinner  one  night, — 

"I  met  Mr.  Welch  to-day  and  he  was  very  interested 
to  know  how  we  all  were,  said  he  intended  coming  up  to 
call  soon;  he  is  just  back  from  a  trip  out  West  and 
looked  ten  years  younger.  I  wonder  how  old  he  is  ? " 

"Fifty-five." 

216 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

"Sixty." 

"Forty-five,"  answered  Miriam,  Thelda  and  Phoebe. 

"I  never  did  like  that  man,"  said  Honor,  "I  always 
have  distrusted  him,  and  that  fold  of  red  fat  in  the  back 
of  his  neck  I  always  long  to  snip  off  with  my  manicure 
scissors. ' ' 

"And  his  hands,"  said  Thelda,  "I  hate  his  hands,  they 
are  too  wide  and  dimply,  and  he  uses  them  too  much. ' ' 

' '  I  think  he  is  very  nice  and  kind,  and  you  know  Uncle 
Mat  said  he  was  a  wonderful  man,  and  the  cleverest  law- 
yer here,"  said  Bliss. 

Miriam  looked  up  sharply, — 

"Yes,  he  is  clever,  I  heard  at  Madame 's  that  he  had 
just  won  the  biggest  case  and  the  biggest  fee  a  man  ever 
won  in  the  State. ' ' 

"What  a  perfect  encyclopedia  of  useful  knowledge 
Madame 's  is;  how  on  earth  can  people  be  so  foolish  as 
they  are,  in  their  selection  of  places  to  gossip  ? ' ' 

' '  Girls,  I  am  disgusted  with  the  people  who  go  to  make 
up  our  old  world.  I  see  so  much  of  it  there  and  hear  so 
much  that  seems  mean  and  sordid  and  unlovely.  Gossip 
not  of  the  innocent,  pleasant  kind,  but  cruel,  hurting  and 
harmful  things.  Why,  oh  why  are  women  so  horrid?" 

"The  world's  not  so  bad,  Miriam,  but  the  class  that 
you  come  into  contact  with,  our  old  class,  is  simply  suf- 
fering from  misdirected  energy,  too  much  physical  ease 
and  leisure.  It  would  be  a  godsend,  if  some  great  finan- 
cial cataclysm  could  do  to  them  what  our  small  domestic 
one  did  for  us  and  give  them  something  that  they  were 
forced  to  do,  for  just  bread  and  butter.  Here  it  is  a 
year,  now,  since  we  picked  up  the  gauntlet  Fate  flung. 
I,  for  one,  would  not  go  back  to  the  old  easy  life,  with  its 
futilities,  would  any  of  you?"  asked  Honor. 

"No,  we  would  not!"  said  Phoebe. 

' '  Well,  I  guess  not ! "  exclaimed  Thelda.  ' '  What !  miss 
seeing  all  of  the  people  at  Finn's?  There  are  seven 
small  romances  I  am  keeping  tabs  on,  not  to  mention  that 

217 


CHUMS 

I  am  now  the  confidante  of  several  whose  affairs  are  in  a 
slightly  tangled  condition.  Martha  Holding  came  in  to- 
day with  those  two  blessed  babies  of  hers  to  tell  me  that 
pretty  little  Nora  Brady  and  her  big  policeman  husband 
had  made  up  their  matrimonial  woes  just  because  of  my 
influence  over  Nora,  and  that  they  were  going  to  take  a 
flat  in  the  Holding  Building  and  live  happy  ever  after. 
Martha  is  looking  lovely !  how  she  has  bloomed  since  her 
marriage!  She  is  still  head  and  front  of  all  the  settle- 
ment work,  in  spite  of  her  new  duties. ' ' 

Bliss  had  gone  out  of  the  room  as  the  conversation  con- 
tinued and,  noticing  her  absence,  Nalton  asked,— 

"Did  you  know,  girls,  that  Bliss  had  refused  Harry, 
again?" 

Phoabe  groaned,— 

' '  Oh,  the  small  goose  that  she  ii. ' ' 

"But,  Phcebe,  much  as  we  would  love  to  see  her  mar- 
ried to  good  old  Hal,  surely  it  would  not  be  well  for  her 
to  marry  him  if  she  did  not  love  him, ' '  said  Miriam. 

"It  is  not  going  to  be  a  question  of  love  with  Bliss,  it 
•will  be  a  question  of  dollars." 

"Oh  no,  dear,  you  are  wrong  to  say  that,  why  what 
have  you  ever  seen  to  lead  you  to  think  Bliss  would  mar- 
ry just  for  money?" 

"No,  she  will  not,  as  you  put  it,  marry  just  for  money, 
but  she  will  discover  all  sorts  of  likeable  or  lovable  traits 
in  some  man  who  has  money,  and  she  will  always  be  able 
to  see  those  'lovable  traits'  as  long  as  the  man  shall  live 
and  the  money  last. ' ' 

Honor  looked  pained  and  Miriam  got  up  and  went  over 
to  her,  putting  an  arm  about  her  and  giving  her  a  hug, — 

"You  dear  old  simple  hearted  thing,  how  anyone  as 
clever  as  you  are  can  be  so  simple,  I  don't  see.  But  cheer 
up,  old  girl,  our  Bliss  is  not  going  to  be  anything  but 
supremely  happy  up  to  the  last  moment  of  her  life,  and 
as  for  the  rest  of  us,  well,  you  have  had  our  declaration 
of  content." 

218 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

' '  The  tea  is  sloppy,  Honor,  put  in  some  more  leaves. ' ' 
"Oh,  is  it,  dear?  I  thought  I  had  measured  seven 
spoonfuls  into  the  pot ;  hand  me  your  cup  and  I  will  give 
you  a  fresh  one,"  and  Honor  took  the  cup  from  The! da's 
outstretched  hand  and,  still  holding  it,  drifted  off  into 
a  brown  study,  whilst  the  girls  looked  at  her,  then  at 
one  another.  Finally,  Phoabe  took  the  cup  out  of  her 
hand  and  said,— 

"Come  back,  Hon."    And  the  others  laughed. 
"What's  on  its  mighty  mind?"  teased  Nalton. 
Honor  looked  about  at  the  smiling  faces  a  moment, 
then  laughed  nervously. 

"Was  I  mooning,  girls?  Yes,  I  believe  I  was,  but  the 
fact  is  I  have  had  a  severe  shock  this  afternoon  and  I 
have  not  quite  recovered.  Kathie  Farringdon  was  here 
and  told  me  some  things  that  have  troubled  me." 

"Here,  dear,  let  me  do  the  tea  act,  you  sit  over  in  the 
big  chair,  you're  all  shaky,  what's  the  trouble?"  And 
Thelda  pushed  her  gently  into  the  chair  and  took  her 
place  at  the  tea-table. 

"Yes,  what's  the  trouble,  dear?"  asked  Phrebe. 
Honor  looked  into  the  anxious  faces,  and  answered, — 
' '  Hortillia  Brooks  has  run  away"  with  the  painter  Al- 
linson  and  Kathie  feels  heartbroken." 

"Oh,"  said  Miriam,  "what  a  pity!    And  those  beauti- 
ful babies  of  hers,  what  of  them  ? ' ' 
"Kathie  has  taken  them." 

"Well,  they  will  be  better  off  with  Kathie,  Hortillia  is 
not  what  could  be  called  an  ideal  mother." 

"Where's  Bliss?"  asked  Thelda;  Honor  nodded  to- 
wards the  next  room, — 

' '  She,  it  seems,  has  known  that  this  was  contemplated 
but  thought  it  might  be  prevented.  Now  that  it  is  an 
accomplished  fact,  she  is  feeling  badly  to  think  that  she 
did  not  let  Kathie  know  how  things  were." 

Miriam  shook  her  head.  ' '  It  would  not  have  done  the 
slightest  good,  so  she  might  as  well  save  her  tears.  Hor- 

219 


CHUMS 

tillia  would  do  as  Hortillia  desired  to  do  from  her  baby- 
hood up,  no  persons  or  circumstances  could  stop  her. 
I  fear  me  Hortillia  is  destined  to  walk  very  much  in  the 
footsteps  of  that  famous  great-aunt  of  hers. ' ' 

"Oh,  what  a  muddle  things  are!  Hon,  did  Bliss  tell 
you  anything  else?"  asked  Thelda. 

Honor  looked  up.  "No,  what,— what  about?  What 
do  you  mean  ? ' '  she  demanded,  looking  startled. 

"Oh,  nothing  of  this  sort,  dear,  only  rather  interest- 
ing as  it  bears  out  what  Miriam  prophesied  a  few  months 
ago.  Old  Welch,  or  Mr.  Mortimer  Theodore  Welch,  has 
made  known  to  me  by  direct  word  of  mouth  (he  is  afraid 
of  you,  Hon,)  that  he  wishes  to  enter  the  family  circle 
in  the  capacity  of  adoring  husband  to  Bliss,  and  she  has 
accepted  him. ' ' 

Honor  rose  quickly  and  started  for  the  door,— 

Phoabe  caught  her  arm  and  Nalton  said, — 

"Honor  dear,  don't  look  so  stricken,  Bliss  says  that 
'she  thinks  she  will  be  very  happy  with  him,'  and  after 
all  it  is  Bliss  who  will  marry  him.  She  likewise  con- 
fided that  she  thought  him  very  lovable." 

"Oh!  Oh!  how  can  she?" 

"Oh!  Bliss  can!  You  know  I  said  that  would  be  the 
way  of  it,  but  I  confess  it  did  not  occur  to  me  that  the 
man  would  be  old  Welch. ' ' 

"Girls,  how  long  have  you  known  this,  and  why  did 
you  not  tell  me  ? " 

"I  have  known  it  two  hours  and  twenty  minutes," 
Thelda  answered,  "but  suspected  it  two  months." 

"It's  news  to  me  absolutely,"  said  Phoebe. 

"Bliss  told  me  yesterday,"  admitted  Nalton. 

Miriam  shook  her  head  as  they  looked  at  her,— 

"No,  I  have  had  no  confidences  from  anyone,  but  I 
really  do  not  think  it  is  a  bad  thing,  the  man  will  ador? 
her,  give  her  everything  she  wants,  and  after  all  Bliss  is 
content,  that  is  the  main  thing.  Oh,  I  know,  Hon,  what 
you  feel,  that  he  is  too  old  and  we  are  not  any  of  us 

220 


greatly  enamored  of  him,  but  when  I  see  all  of  the  mar- 
riages made  for  love,  and  between  people  of  the  same  age, 
that  go  to  utter  smash — look  at  Hortillia  Brooks,  for  in- 
stance—truly, I  do  not  dare  say  that  this  ought  not  to  be 
just  because  of  the  difference  in  age.  I  really  think  I 
know  Bliss  better  than  any  of  you  do,  she  is  as  cold 
blooded  as  can  be  under  her  dimply  softness.  She  is  one 
of  the  little  tabbies  of  life,  the  beautiful  Persian  tabbies, 
and  as  long  as  she  is  made  much  of  and  has  all  of  the 
good  things,  she  will  be  quite  content.  You  have  hoped 
that  she  would  have  a  lovely,  thrilly  love  affair,  and  all 
sorts  of  the  nice,  sentimental  things,  bless  you!  But 
Hon,  truly,  you  have  never  understood  Bliss." 
' '  Evidently  not, ' '  sighed  Honor. 


The  wedding  was  a  church  one,  and  the  bridal  couple 
went  to  Europe  on  their  honeymoon.  Bliss  wrote  happy 
letters,  faithfully  recounting  all  of  the  interesting  do- 
ings, and  no  slightest  cloud  marred  her  apparent  joy  in 
the  life  she  had  chosen. 

At  the  little  flat  the  others  went  on  in  their  usual  way, 
getting  much  from  the  days  and  growing  nearer  than 
ever. 

It  was  a  busy  life  that  they  led  and  their  joys  were 
of  the  simplest,  but  they  were  all  learning  much  that 
made  for  growth  of  character  and  strength. 

Thelda's  work  taking  her,  as  it  did,  into  the  world  of 
the  ' '  work-a-day, ' '  with  its  hard,  practical  problems,  was 
the  one  most  interesting,  because  to  them  all  the  newest 
one :  and  at  the  supper  table  each  night  there  were  things 
to  be  told,  little  glimpses  into  the  lives  where  struggle 
was  spelled  with  a  large  S.  They  were  seeing  more  of 
the  settlement  people  and  finding  themselves  drawn  into 
some  of  the  activities  of  that  busy,  small  world. 

One  night  a  week  Honor  or  Nalton  played  for  the 

221 


CHUMS 

young  people  to  dance,  at  ' '  Holding  Hall, ' '  the  big,  new 
amusement  hall  of  the  settlement. 

One  afternoon  a  week  Phoebe,  Honor  and  Nalton 
taught  in  the  free  "Crafts  School"  and  they,  one  and 
all,  had  grown  to  understand  what  was  meant  when  the 
term  "absorption  in  settlement  work"  was  used. 

These  girls  whose  place  on  the  social  ladder  was,  by 
right  of  birth  and  upbringing,  at  the  top,  were  finding 
that  the  real  interest  was  to  be  found  far  below,  on  the 
lower  rungs,  where  human  nature  was  not  overlaid  with 
any  veneer  of  make-believe,  but  was  very  primitive  in  its 
emotions,  very  near  to  the  eternal  verities ;  and  in  conse- 
quence worth  watching  and  often  worth  admiring.  Oh 
so  often,  there  was  much  of  helpfulness,  of  tenderest  sym- 
pathy and  active  assistance  given  and  accepted,  so  much 
of  unselfishness  shown.  Then,  too,  they  were  constantly 
being  surprised  at  the  discovery  of  gifts,  mental  and 
spiritual,  and  quite  lately  they  had  been  greatly  inter- 
ested in  a  series  of  lectures  on  socialism,  given  by  an  old 
college  chum  of  Doctor  Holding's,  who  had  joined  the 
band  of  workers  and  was  gaining  great  influence  in  the 
district  because  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  born  in  the 
slums,  been  everything  that  the  slum  boy  is,  up  to  a  cer- 
tain age,  then  by  sheer  force  struggled  out  and  up,  and 
after  working  his  way  through  college  had  come  back  to 
them,  helpful  in  his  broader  knowledge  and  by  the  force 
of  his  example  pointing  the  way  to  the  possible  achieve- 
ment of  any  who  would,  like  him,  use  the  powers  nature 
has  given. 

Yes,  life  had  grown  richer  for  them,  was  meaning 
much. 

"Here's  a  long  letter  from  Theo,  girls,  and  she  says 
that  there's  a  chance  of  her  coming  over  next  month  on 
business;  I  ran  up  to  Martha  Holding's  to  tell  her  the 
glad  tidings,  that's  why  I'm  late,"  said  Honor,  coming 
in  glowing  from  a  brisk  walk.  "I  met  Mr.  Dean  there 
and  he  walked  home  with  me. ' ' 

222 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

"Why  did  you  not  ask  him  in  to  tea?"  asked  Nalton, 
whilst  Phosbe  and  Thelda  exchanged  glances. 

"I  did,  but  he  had  not  the  time,  he  said,"  replied  Hon- 
or, simply. 

"You  walked  all  of  the  way  home,  why  did  you  not 
take  a  car?"  asked  Miriam. 

Honor  looked  puzzled.  "Why  really,  I  don't  know, 
we  were  talking  about  the  addition  to  the  settlement 
house,  and  I  suppose  we  forgot  all  about  the  fact  that 
there  were  cars ;  but  oh,  I  do  hope  I  did  not  delay  him, 
he  mentioned  at  Martha's  that  he  had  to  go  up  to  160th 
Street,  to  look  up  a  reference  to  give  in  to  the  Board  to- 
night." 

"Well,  don't  worry,  old  girl,  I  suppose  he  knows  his 
business  and  how  much  time  he  can  spare.  Let's  see 
Theo's  letter  whilst  you  take  off  your  hat.  I'll  put  the 
tea  to  steep,  we  were  only  waiting  for  you  and  we're  all 
hungry,  so  hurry  up. ' ' 

After  Honor  had  left  the  room,  the  girls  laughed 
softly, — 

"Isn't  she  the  dearest  baby  of  a  woman,  it's  never 
entered  her  head  yet  that  the  Dean  person  is  head  over 
heels  in  love  with  her  and  that  she  is  pretty  far  gone 
herself,"  said  Phrebe. 

"Ssssh!  don't  let  her  think  we  are  discussing  her, 
girls,  I  would  not  have  anything  happen  to  take  the 
bloom  off  her  little  romance  for  anything,  bless  her! 
Here  she  comes. ' ' 

Over  the  supper  table,  they  discussed  the  possibility  of 
Theo's  coming  over;  and  each  told  her  news  of  the  day. 
It  was  a  favorite  time  of  the  day  to  them  all,  and  the 
small  frets  and  bothers  of  their  lives  and  work  fell  away 
before  the  fun,  frolic  and  happiness  of  their  being  to- 
gether. The  interest  and  pleasure  far  outweighed  the 
worry,  and  each  felt  that  she  had  gained  in  the  struggle 
with  the  world  what  was  of  value  and  made  for  growth 
mentally,  spiritually  and  intellectually,  and  had  no  real 
regret  for  the  vanished  ease. 

223 


CHUMS 

"Oh,  whilst  I  think  of  it  and  it  is  fresh  in  my  mind,  I 
must  tell  you  of  something  that  occurred  today,"  said 
Thelda.  "Remember  my  telling  you  of  a  pretty  girl 
who  comes  to  the  'lunch  parlor'  and  who  works  at 
Macy's?" 

"Yes,  the  one  who  told  you  you  always  looked  so  'tony 
like  the  swells,'  because  you  always  wore  plain  suits  and 
hats." 

"That's  the  one.  By  the  by,  she  has  an  exact  replica 
t)f  my  present  costume,  even  down  to  my  plain  silver 
links,  and  as  we  are  told,  'imitation  is  the  sincerest  flat- 
tery' I  accept  it  as  a  compliment.  Well,  she  asked  me  if 
she  could  talk  to  me  a  few  moments,  about  four,— she 
wanted  my  advice,  so  of  course  I  said  yes ;  she  came  in  at 
that  time,  having  got  off  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  at 
the  store;  now  this  is  her  news. — She  is  going  to  marry 
a  young  fellow  who  works  in  a  large  wholesale  place  as 
foreman,  and  she  wanted  to  know  if  I  could  tell  her 
where  she  could  learn  something  about  housekeeping  and 
cooking,  for  it  seems  that  all  of  her  life  since  she  was  a 
small  girl  has  been  passed  in  shops,  first  as  cash  girl, 
then  behind  the  counter ;  and  the  people  with  whom  she 
has  lived,  some  distant  relatives,  do  not  live  in  the  way 
Carrie  approves.  She  has,  it  seems,  a  most  marked  do- 
mestic leaning,  says  that  she  always  has  planned  some 
day  to  have  a  nice  little  home  and  always  wanted  to  know 
how  to  cook  and  make  things,  so  now  her  wish  is  to  be 
fulfilled. 

The  man  is  steady  and  earns  two-and-a-half  a  day,  has 
saved  four  hundred  dollars,  and  they  do  not  see  any  rea- 
son to  wait  any  longer. 

She  has  been  getting  ready  a  small  outfit  of  table  and 
bed  linen,  and  has  bought  a  machine  and  a  set  of  books,— 
'The  Library  of  Choice  Literature',— five  pictures  and 
a  clock,  an  easel,  a  mantel-drape  and  a  pair  of  portieres, 
on  the  installment  plan.  These  are  all  paid  for,  so  we 
consulted  as  to  ways  and  means,  and  I  told  her  of  the 
new  Holding  Building  and  its  pretty  little  flats  of  two 

224 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

and  three  rooms,  and  advised  her  to  go  and  see  Mary  To- 
bin  at  the  settlement  house  and  ask  to  join  her  house- 
keeping class.  As  she  seemed  a  trifle  shy  I  said  I  would 
go  with  her  to  both  places  on  Sunday.  She  is  as  pretty 
as  a  peach  and  looks  lovely,  now  that  she  has  left  off  her 
feathered  hats  and  enameled  and  rhinestone  combs. 

"We  will  go  first  to  see  Mary,  then  I  told  her  to  ask  her 
John  to  meet  us  at  the  buildings,  and  look  at  the  flats 
with  us. ' ' 

"Oh,  how  jolly,  I  wish  I  could  go  along,"  said  Mir- 
iam, "won't  it  be  fun  to  see  them  settle;  did  she  take 
you  into  her  confidence  about  the  furniture?  I  sup- 
pose she  will  have  a  parlor,  with  a  'set'  in  brocatelle, 
each  piece  of  a  different  color;  and  can't  you  just  see  it 
all,  the  drape  probably  of  peacock  blue  plush  with 
fringe,  or  an  embroidered  one  done  in  large-as-life  roses 
on  a  magenta  ground !  The  clock  will  be  gilt  and  onyx 
under  a  globe;  and  the  pictures, — 'The  Huguenot  Lov- 
ers, '  '  Beatrice  Cenci, '  '  Alone  at  Last, '  and  a  yard  of  vio- 
lets in  elaborate  white  and  gold  frames.  The  easel  will 
hold  an  enlarged  crayon  of  'him'  with  an  India  silk 
drape  festooned  over  it,  and  the  portieres  will  be  chenille, 
in  a  pattern  of  yellow,  green  and  blue  lozenges  on  a  tan 
ground ;  oh,  lovely ! ' ' 

They  all  laughed  as  Phoebe  finished. 

"I  am  not  so  certain,"  replied  Thelda,  "any  girl  who 
has  the  good  taste  to  give  up  cheap  finery  for  simplicity, 
and  thinks  it  'the  dead  swell  thing,'  as  she  expressed  it, 
may  be  inspired  to  buy  a  different  class  of  home  furnish- 
ings; however,  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  you  Sunday  eve- 
ning, for  I  promised  to  go  up  to  her  room  and  see  her 
possessions. ' ' 

"I've  had  an  experience  today,  too,"  said  Miriam. 
"Do  you  remember  that  Mrs.  Hemingway  we  used  oc- 
casionally to  meet  at  Belle  English's,  before  her  mar- 
riage?" 

"The  big  woman  with  the  look  of  'The  Roman  Matron' 

225 


CHUMS 

saying  adieu  to  her  sons  on  the  eve  of  battle?"  asked 
Thelda.  ' '  Yes,  what  of  her,  I  never  liked  her. ' ' 

"Well,  she  has  lost  all  her  money,  and  with  it  the  look 
you  speak  of,  and  now  is  quite  humanly  human,  poor 
thing,  and  has  opened  a  boarding-house  on  Seventy-first 
Street ;  two  of  our  customers  board  with  her  and  say  that 
she  is  having  a  struggle  to  get  on,  and  just  this  afternoon 
I  met  her  on  the  Sixth  Avenue  car  and  she  was  so  glad  to 
see  me,  I  felt  quite  repentant  for  all  my  criticism  of  her 
in  the  past.  It  was  evidently  the  psychological  moment, 
when  she  must  unbosom  to  someone  or  burst— and  she 
unbosomed  to  me.  She  has  taken  too  expensive  a  house ; 
it  costs  too  much  to  run  it,  so  that  she  has  to  charge  too 
high  prices,  and  so  she  can  not  fill  it  and  sees  her  little 
reserve  fund  melt  away. 

I  told  her  I  thought  that  if  she  would  take  a  house  in 
a  much  less  expensive  neighborhood  and  ask  moderate 
prices,  giving  good  value  in  return,  her  troubles  would 
vanish ;  for  there  are  quantities  of  people  who  would  like 
to  find  a  boarding-house  that  was  clean,  with  good  table, 
and  that  seemed  '  homey, '  and  yet  who  could  not  pay  ex- 
orbitant prices. 

She  said  that  she  could  dispose  of  her  lease  readily, 
and  when  I  left  her  she  seemed  quite  cheered  up.  She 
condoled  with  me  over  our  loss  of  dollars,  and  I  told  her 
that  we  would  not  go  back  to  the  old  life  for  anything; 
that  we  were  all  agreed  that  we  had  not  been  more  than 
half  awake  before  to  life's  possibilities  for  interest  and 
fun  and  happiness. 

I  told  her  of  our  new  interest,  the  settlement  work,  and 
when  I  mentioned  the  Holdings  and  she  found  that  the 
Doctor  was  the  son  of  old  Ezra  Holding,  the  multi-mil- 
lionaire, and  Martha  was  the  cousin  of  Belle,  she  was  too 
surprised  for  words.  Funny  she  had  never  heard  of 
them  from  the  English's,  wasn't  it?  Anyway  I  have 
given  her  some  new  possibilities  to  think  of,  poor  thing. 
She  likewise  congratulated  me  upon  Bliss's  good  mar- 

226 


riage !  Dollars  again,  how  much  nine-tenths  of  the  world 
seem  to  think  of  money ! ' ' 

Sunday  evening  Thelda  was  late  for  supper,  so  they 
went  on  with  the  meal  without  her  and  had  about  fin- 
ished when  she  came  in. 

"I  saved  some  supper  for  you,  dear,"  said  Honor,  as 
she  helped  her  take  off  her  jacket  and  hat. 

"Oh,  thanks,  honey,  but  I'm  full  up  to  my  very  chin, 
and  I  have  had  just  the  jolliest  time !  Let  the  dishes  go 
for  awhile,  girls,  and  listen. — 

I  went  with  Carrie  O'Brien  to  see  Mary,  and  Carrie 
told  her  little  story.  Mary  was  as  pleased  as  Punch,  the 
kind  thing,  and  entered  into  Carrie's  plans  as  though 
they  were  her  own.  Every  day  for  a  fortnight  Carrie  is 
to  go  to  the  housekeeping  class  and  by  the  end  of  that 
time  Mary  assures  her  that  she  will  know  enough  to  get 
at  least  a  week's  meals  properly.  Then,  after  she  is  mar- 
ried, she  is  to  continue  going  until  she  has  finished  her 
course.  You  know  they  have  at  the  settlement  worked 
out  a  really  wonderful  lot  of  menus,  minimum  cost,  max- 
imum nourishment  and  attractiveness,  just  suited  to  slim 
purses;  and  Mary  is  so  interested  in  pretty  Carrie's  ro- 
mance, that  she  will  be  additionally  painstaking  in  help- 
ing her  with  the  housekeeping  struggle. 

Then  we  went  to  the  buildings,  where  we  met  John 
who  was  looming  large  and  shy  in  the  doorway  and  who 
gave  me  such  a  grip  as  Carrie  introduced  us,  that  my 
fingers  are  numb  yet. 

There  are  only  two  flats  empty,  and  they  decided  upon 
the  three-room  one  on  the  top  floor ;  the  cunningest  little 
place,  and  as  convenient  as  a  yacht,  which  it  strongly  re- 
sembles. Every  inch  of  space  is  utilized,  and  it  was  very 
pretty  to  watch  Carrie's  joy  in  the  place.  At  each  dis- 
covery, she  got  pinker  of  cheek  and  brighter  of  eye. 
And  the  big,  clumsy,  kind  looking  fellow  looked  like  an 
elephant  in  the  tiny  rooms. 

Then,  after  it  was  decided  that  it  was  "just  the  sweet- 

227 


CHUMS 

est  ever,"  I  introduced  them  to  the  janitor;  and  Carrie 
and  I  said  goodbye  to  John  and  went  to  see  the  treas- 
ures. 

The  neighborhood  was  a  rough  one  and  we  fell  over 
old  women  in  the  doorway  and  babies,  in  all  stages  of 
mussiness,  on  the  stairs. 

Carrie  said,— "Poor  little  things,  half  of  them  don't 
get  any  care  to  speak  of,"  and  she  stopped  to  pat  and 
speak  to  a  dozen.  Evidently  the  maternal  instinct  is  well 
developed.  We  climbed  and  climbed  and  finally  on  the 
top  floor  reached  our  destination,  and  as  Carrie  opened 
the  door  our  nostrils  were  assailed  by  such  a  gush  of 
steaming  dinner,  tobacco  smoke  and  beer  that  I  gasped. 
The  room  was  clean  and  comfortable,  though  evidently 
kitchen  and  sitting-room.  A  good  natured,  fat  old  Irish 
woman  and  a  tall,  thin  old  Irishman  were  introduced  as 
'My  Uncle  Mat  and  my  Aunt  Mary.'  They  beamed  upon 
me  cordially. 

Carrie  led  me  into  a  room  adjoining,  which  was  hers, 
and  I  was  never  so  amazed  in  my  life,  it  was  cool  and 
pretty  and  really  nice.  You  remember,  Phoebe,  what  you 
prophesied  as  to  the  probable  furnishings  of  the  flat, 
don't  you?" 

Phcebe  nodded. 

"Well,  it's  guess  again.  There  was  a  pretty  matting 
on  the  floor,  a  plain  green  paper  on  the  walls,  and  the 
pictures  were  in  dark  oak  frames  and  were  all  etchings 
and  in  excellent  taste. 

The  easel  held  what  was  evidently  the  treasure,  and  it 
was  that  charming  'Madame  le  Brun  and  Child'  in  sepia. 
The  portieres  were  two-toned  green.  The  mantel-drape 
was  a  straight  piece  of  some  green  and  gold  stuff,  really 
pretty.  The  clock  was  one  of  those  round  crystals,  held 
by  a  small  bronze  dragon.  Her  bed  was  a  box-couch,  so 
that  in  the  day  time  there  was  no  look  of  a  bedroom  about 
the  place,  as  she  kept  her  toilet  articles  in  a  chest  of 
drawers,  and  when  she  showed  me  how  out  of  sight  they 

228 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

could  be,  I  saw  that  her  brush  and  comb  were  clean  and 
she  even  had  a  simple  little  manicure  set. 

There  were  two  chairs,  both  rattan,  with  cushions.  I 
was  so  dumfounded  I  could  not  speak,  then  I  found  my 
voice  and  I  praised, — well !  I  think  I  did. 

She,  it  seems,  has  been  an  ardent  reader  of  the  Ladies' 
Home  Journal  and  the  Woman's  Home  Companion,  and 
copied,  where  she  could,  the  arrangements  of  her  little 
room ;  and  besides  the  '  Choice  Literature  Set, '  she  has  a 
number  of  other  books,  mostly  poetry,  and  several  bound 
volumes  of  her  standbys,  the  L.  H.  J.'s,  and  W.  H.  C's., 
as  she  calls  them.  Oh,  and  I  must  not  forget  the  after- 
noon-tea table;  it  has  everything  complete  down  to  a 
cracker  jar,  a  small  brass  kettle  and  a  spirit  lamp,  and  I 
had  tea  with  her. 

Talk  of  the  adaptability  of  woman!  Here  was  this 
pretty  Irish  girl,  who  has  had  the  slenderest  education, 
whose  whole  life  had  been  spent  in  a  shop,  yet  who  has 
managed  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  what  prettiness  and 
daintiness  may  be  attained,  and  whose  taste  has  been 
cultivated  simply  by  seeing,  observing  and  reading. 

After  we  had  talked  over  the  prospective  home  and  the 
furnishings,  the  old  woman  came  in  and  insisted  upon 
my  having  Sunday  dinner  with  them,  and  I  stayed.  It 
was  heaps  of  fun  and  the  dinner  was  good.  Pork  and 
cabbage,  dumplings,  baked  potatoes  and  gravy,  and  rice 
pudding. 

They're  the  nicest  old  couple  and  as  proud  of  Carrie 
as  though  she  were  their  own  child. 

John  came  in  to  dinner  and  we  all  got  acquainted  quite 
intimately.  Oh,  I  would  not  have  missed  it  for  anything. 
Isn  't  life  great  fun  ? ' ' 


The  addition  to  the  settlement  house  was  finished  and 
on  the  top  floor  Walter  Dean  had  arranged  a  pretty  suite 
of  rooms,  where  the  windows  looked  out  on  the  harbor, 

229 


CHUMS 

and  every  breath  of  the  ocean  air  came  in,  and  the  sun 
poured  in,  making  things  cheerful  and  bright. 

On  the  first  floor,  easy  of  access,  he  established  his  of- 
fice, and  the  poor  and  sick  and  troubled  found  him  al- 
ways ready  with  help  of  all  kinds. 

He,  like  Doctor  Holding,  had  felt  that  both  kinds  of 
doctoring  were  needed  in  the  chosen  work,  and  they  had 
gone  through  divinity  classes  and  medical  classes  togeth- 
er. Big,  strong,  clear  brained  men,  both  filled  with  zeal 
and  belief  in  making  things  better  here  and  now.  With 
their  practical  helpfulness,  their  cheerful  views,  and 
abundant  vital  interest  in  people,  conditions  and  things, 
they  were  doing  good  work. 

One  late  afternoon  in  the  autumn  Doctor  Holding 
came  into  the  other's  office  as  the  small  maid  brought  in 
the  tea-tray,  and  the  two  busy  men  grasped  this  short  in- 
terval between  duties  for  a  talk.  Finally  Holding  said, — 

"Old  boy,  have  you  anything  to  tell  me?" 

The  other  flushed  and  laughed  nervously,  answering, — 

"No,  I  cannot,  somehow,  get  up  courage  to  ask  her. 
You  see,  it's  such  a  change  from  everything  that  she  has 
been  reared. to  and  it  seems  to  me  that  possibly  I  ouatfit 
not  to  ask  a  woman  to  join  me  in  my  life  work  at  all,  it 
is  not  fair  to  the  woman,  unless  she  has  been  and  is  like- 
wise a  '  worker  in  the  vineyard. '  Of  course  in  your  case 
it  was  different,  Martha  would  not  have  given  up  the 
work,  I  believe,  don 't  you  ? ' ' 

Holding  nodded  his  head. 

' '  Yes,  my  good  fortune  certainly  lay  in  the  fact  that  it 
was  the  chosen  life  work  of  both  of  us ;  but  I  tell  you,  old 
fellow,  I  think  Honor  Brenning  is  the  one  for  you,  and  I 
do  not  believe  that  she  will  feel  that  she  is  making  too 
great  a  sacrifice  for  you.  Why  she  is  head  and  front  of 
the  work  now,  and  was  bemoaning  to  Martha,  only  yes- 
terday, that  their  flat  was  so  far  away  from  the  settle- 
ment. ' ' 

"Was   she?"    asked   Dean,    sitting   erect,   whilst   his 

230 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

strong  face  lost  its  look  of  discouragement,  and  the  usual 
boyish  drollery  that  so  endeared  him  to  his  patients  shone 
forth. 

"Jolly!  I'll  ask  her  to  take  a  look  at  my  rooms,  and 
tell  me  if  there  is  anything  further  they  need,  and— and 
— maybe  if  she  seems  to  like  them,  I  can  get  up  courage 
enough  to  ask  her  to  marry  me  and  live  in  them  with  me, 
—but  maybe  her  sisters  will  object." 

"Oh,  maybe  your  grandmother!"  laughed  Holding, 
"the  girls  are  the  nicest,  most  sensible  lot  I  ever  knew, 
and  are  you  for  an  instant  laboring  under  the  impression 
that  this  is  going  to  give  them  a  shock  of  surprise  ?  You 
can  pretty  safely  count  on  their  having  realized  the  sit- 
uation before  you  did,  all  but  Honor.  I  really  don 't  be- 
lieve she  does  yet,  but  you  can  easily  find  out.  When 
will  you  show  her  over  your  place  ? ' ' 

"Well,  I  think  tomorrow,  if  she  comes  down,  but  oh, 
I  say  Holding,  I  really  feel  sort  of  scared— the  fact  that 
I  am  one  of  these  people  by  birth  and  upbringing — 

—"Oh,  bother,  man!  that  you  have  made  of  your- 
self what  you  have,  considering  that  fact,  is  worth  every- 
thing in  the  way  of  character.  Women,  that  is  our  kind 
of  women  don't  care  a  hang  who  our  grandfathers  were, 
or  our  fathers  either  for  that  matter.  Just  you  forget 
to  be  afraid  and  tell  your  little  story  and  whilst  you're 
telling  it  do  not  try  to  look  as  though  you  were  an  es- 
caped criminal  fearing  immediate  arrest,"  said  Holding 
laughingly,  as  he  went  out. 

The  following  evening  Honor  was  late  for  supper  and 
Nalton  was  looking  out  of  the  window  when  the  others 
heard  her  exclaim,  then  laugh,  and  she  turned  towards 
them  a  second  after,  her  face  flushed  and  her  eyes  danc- 
ing. 

"Well,  talk  of  being  unconventional!  Walter  Dean 
has  just  kissed  Honor  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  corner 
light,  before  the  eyes  of  a  newsboy,  two  old  men,  a  wom- 
an and  the  janitor." 

"Nalton!" 

231 


CHUMS 

"  'Tis  a  fact,  I  saw  it!" 

''Well,  evidently  he  has  proposed  and  been  accepted, " 
said  Thelda.  Goody!  dear  old  Hon  deserves  her  happi- 
ness and  he 's  just  the  brother-in-law  I  would  have  picked 
out,  and  won't  it  be  larks  to  go  and  see  them  up  in  sky- 
heaven,  and  be  right  in  all  the  settlement  doings  ? ' ' 

The  door  opened  and  Honor  came  in.  The  girls  sur- 
rounded her  and  took  off  hat  and  jacket,  overshoes  and 
leggings,  while  they  all  talked  at  once. 

' '  Oh,  Hon,  we  're  so  glad,  when  is  it  to  be  ?  Isn  't  he  a 
dear !  Are  you  going  to  live  in  the  new  apartment  ? ' ' 

Honor  flushed  hotly,  and  said  in  amaze, — 

"Why,  how  did  you  know?  How  could  you?  It's 
just  this  afternoon  happened,  and  we  have  not  told  a 
soul." 

"Oh,  you  blessed,  you!"  laughed  Nalton,  giving  her  a 
hug.  "Why,  we've  all  known  for  ages  that  it  was  com- 
ing and  I  just  saw  'the  Dean'  kiss  you  goodbye  so  nat- 
urally, we  knew  we  were  to  have  another  wedding  in  the 
family. ' ' 

After  they  had  talked  it  all  over  and  Honor  had  told 
their  plans,  she  said  with  a  slight  tremble  in  her  sweet 
voice, — 

"It  seems  selfish  of  me,  girls,  to  go  away  and  leave 
you." 

"Now  honey,  just  get  that  out  of  your  head  instanter! 
You're  not  going  to  leave  us  anyway,  as  far  as  that  goes, 
we  shall  see  you  almost  daily  and  we  are  looking  forward 
to  having  a  'vested  interest'  in  that  absorbing  work — 
you  will  be  the  '  v.  i. '  : 

"Oh,"  sighed  Phcebe,  "do  you  suppose  there  are  any 
more  such  men,  for  if  there  are  I  speak  first  for  one. ' ' 

"I  say,  Hon,"  Miriam  queried,  "this  having  so  many 
adoring  sisters-in-law  will  be  rather  overwhelming,  won't 
it  ?  Do  you  suppose  he  is  quite  properly  appreciative  of 
the  situation?" 

Honor  smiled  happily,— "Yes,  he  thinks  it  is  charm- 
ing; you  know  he  has  never  had  any  near  ones— an  or- 

232 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

phan,  supposedly,  left  to  scramble  through  life.  Oh, 
girls,  I  listen  to  him  in  sheer  wonderment  when  I  realize 
what  he  has  accomplished,  and  feel  additionally  tender 
to  every  ragged,  dirty,  little  atom  of  humanity,  just  be- 
cause of  Walter;  and  to  think  of  having  struggled  out 
of  it  all  and  up,  and  when  life  could  have  been  filled  with 
all  that  is  generally  thought  to  be  most  worth  while,  turn- 
ing his  back  and  going  back  to  the  slums !  He  says  that 
he  finds  the  memories  of  his  own  boyhood  and  its  strug- 
gles give  him  understanding  of  these  lives  as  nothing 
else  can,  and  you  know  his  boys'  classes  are  getting  on 
wonderfully.  I  am  very  happy,  girls." 

As  there  was  no  reason  for  delay,  the  wedding  took 
place  a  month  later,  held  in  the  old  Hall  that  had  been 
the  scene  of  Martha  Farrish's  wedding  five  years  before, 
and  under  very  similar  conditions.  The  guests,— aside 
from  the  girls,  Martha  and  her  husband,  and  the  other 
workers, — being  the  people  of  the  quarter,  to  whom  this 
young  couple  were  already  dear,  and  who  felt  a  keen 
sense  of  appropriation  in  them.  Then,  after  a  short  trip, 
they  settled  down  in  the  new  home  which  had  been  made 
pretty  and  comfortable. 

Bliss  wrote  lovingly,  and  if  she  felt  any  slightest  dis- 
appointment in  her  sister's  choice,  she  hid  it  perfectly 
so  that  there  was  no  cloud  to  mar  Honor 's  happiness. 

It  had  been  decided  that  Nalton  should  go  on  with  the 
dancing-class,  taking  an  assistant,  an  old  girl  friend  who 
found  herself  in  the  need  of  earning  her  living. 

At  the  flat  the  girls  kept  on  as  they  had  been  and  often 
seeing  Honor  as  they  did,  and  being  themselves  as  active 
workers  as  their  time  permitted  in  the  settlement  crafts 
school  and  small  social  doings,  there  was  no  sense  of  loss ; 
and  to  each,  life  was  bringing  so  much  through  their 
various  activities  and  individual  interests  that  there  was 
never  time  to  grow  dull  or  lonely. 

One  afternoon,  as  Thelda  was  balancing  her  cash  pre- 
paratory to  leaving  for  home,  the  door  of  the  lunch  par- 


233 


CHUMS 

lor  opened  and  a  tall  woman  entered  and  came  toward 
the  desk. 

"Sorry,  ma'am,  but  we  are  just  closing  for  the  day," 
said  a  waitress  to  her. 

' '  Yes,  I  know,  I  only  want  to  see  Miss  Brenning, ' '  she 
answered. 

At  the  sound  of  the  deep  contralto  Thelda  looked  up 
and  half  rose  from  her  seat,  then  exclaimed,  gladly, — 

' '  Theodocia  ? "  and  went  quickly  to  meet  her.. 

"Yes,  Theodocia,  you  small,  irreverent  person,  when  I 
last  saw  you,  you  had  your  hair  in  pigtails,  and  ad- 
dressed me  with  much  greater  deference. ' '  And  the  tall 
woman  stooped  to  kiss  the  upturned  face. 

"I'm  just  from  seeing  Martha  and  Honor,  Mary  T., 
and  the  small  Duchess,  and  considering  I  only  escaped 
from  the  clutches  of  the  customs  people  at  twelve,  and 
it's  but  five  now,  I  think  I  deserve  a  medal.  Honor  said 
if  I  caught  you  '  to  beg  a  supper. '  I  want  to  see  the  oth- 
er girls,  may  I  go  home  with  you  ? ' ' 

"Indeed  you  may,"  replied  Thelda,  feeling  suddenly 
small,  young,  inexperienced  and  a  bit  shy  before  the 
handsome,  grizzled-haired  woman  whose  history  had 
been  so  wonderful  and  who  had  been  such  a  power  in  her 
small  world,  that  though  years  had  elapsed  since  her  de- 
parture her  name  was  as  much  a  thing  to  conjure  with  as 
when  she  lived  amongst  them. 

They  took  a  car,  and  Theodocia,  sensing  Thelda 's  shy- 
ness, talked  on  of  her  trip,  her  fellow  passengers,  of  the 
'chums'  left  behind  in  Europe,  of  many  things, — clever, 
witty  talk,  pictures  of  people  and  events.  And  when  the 
wonderful  deep  voice  finally  ceased,  and  the  quizzical 
big,  gray  eyes  looked  down  into  Thelda 's  brown  ones  the 
latter  drew  a  deep  breath  and  snuggled  closer,  saying,— 

"Oh,  don't  stop  talking,  I  could  listen  all  night." 

Theodocia  gave  her  an  approving  pat  and  laughed. 

' '  Nice  girl !  and  you  will  probably  get  your  wish,  for 
I've  so  much  to  tell  and  ask  that  I  can  foresee  that  we 


234 


LIFE'S    GREAT   HIGHWAY 

shall  make  a  night  of  it,  but  is  not  the  next  corner  where 
we  get  off  ?  I  hafe  to  get  to  the  door  before  the  car  stops, 
so  as  not  to  keep  impatient  conductors  waiting,  as  I  can 
not  well  explain  that  one  of  my  nether  limbs  is  a  product 
of  the  artificial  doctor 's  art,  can  I  ?  " 

After  supper  Martha,  Honor,  Mary  T.  and  Anna  Dean 
came  in,  and  they  all  gathered  about  Theodocia. 

There  was  so  much  to  say  that  when  the  two  husbands 
came  at  eleven  to  claim  the  truant  wives,  but  a  small 
part  had  been  said,  and  they  planned  to  meet  at  the  set- 
tlement house  for  tea  on  the  following  Sunday,  and 
bring  things  up  to  date. 

Theodocia  went  home  with  Mary  and  Anna  to  the  set- 
tlement house  where  there  was  a  room  ready  for  her. 

Amongst  the  volunteer  teachers  in  the  free  crafts 
night  school  was  a  big  German  of  socialistic  tendencies 
and  great  erudition,  a  man  of  whom  nothing  was  known 
beyond  the  fact  that  he  had  been  a  Heidelberg  student  in 
his  youth,  was  of  good  family,  and  for  some  reason  had 
elected  to  leave  certain  position  in  Germany  and  come 
to  America,  where  he  practised  the  trade  of  bookbinding 
and  interested  himself  greatly  in  the  settlement  work, 
giving  nearly  a  third  of  his  time  to  the  work  in  the  eve- 
ning classes.  He  was  a  devout  follower  of  the  William 
Morris  school  of  thought  and  work,  and  was  very  genu- 
inely liked  by  all.  His  big  booming  bass  voice  was  heard 
at  all  of  the  musical  evenings,  and  besides  he  taught  a 
class  in  singing  and  violin,  being  far  and  away  beyond 
the  amateur  in  his  work  along  those  lines. 

Nalton  had  been  helping  in  his  music-class,  playing 
accompaniments,  and  sometimes  when  the  other  sisters 
were  not  there  to  return  home  with  her,  Professor,  as  he 
was  called  by  them  all,  would  see  her  to  the  door.  She 
had  protested  at  first,  for  it  would  be  late  and  she  re- 
membered the  long  trip  back  to  where  he  lived  near  the 
mission,  but  as  he  said  it  was  a  rest  and  he  always,  in  all 
weathers  prowled  about  until  after  midnight,  she  ceased 

235 


CHUMS 

to  protest.  They  were  very  companionable,  and  the  talks 
of  the  work  at  the  settlement,  his  plans  for  further  work, 
his  interest  in  the  people  and  great  belief  in  the  future 
possibility  for  growth  and  betterment  of  them  and  their 
conditions,  and  his  sunny  optimism  which  nothing  could 
down,  were  to  her  a  great  delight,  and  they  discussed  life 
in  all  of  its  bearings  and  found  it  good. 

Nalton  told  him  of  their  life,  hers  and  her  sisters',  of 
the  good  old  uncle  who  had  done  so  much  for  them  and 
intended  doing  so  much  more,  when  death  cut  off  all 
possibility  of  achievement;  and  then  of  their  life  since 
their  facing  the  world  and  becoming  wage  earners,  whilst 
his  deep  voice  boomed  an  occasional  "Lieber  Gott,  ach! 
sehr  gut!"  And  he  told  her  in  return,  of  his  boyhood, 
passed  in  a  great  somber  old  Schloss,  amidst  old  people 
steeped  in  family  traditions,  family  pride  in  the  old  race 
and  name ;  of  his  series  of  tutors,  who  had  given  the  pro- 
verbial intellectual  stone  to  the  boy  eager  for  the  bread 
of  life ;  of  his  final  Heidelberg  years  of  wild  student  riot- 
ing; of  the  death  of  the  old  great-aunt  and  uncle  who 
had  brought  him  up,  and  of  his  final  achievement  of  his 
liberty.  How,  for  years,  he  had  travelled,  read,  studied 
men,  conditions  and  countries,  had  slowly  but  certainly 
reached  the  conclusion,  life  being  the  struggle  it  was  to 
nine-tenths' of  the  world's  people,  that  it  behooved  men 
such  as  he,  who  had  attained  to  a  clear  vision  of  what  was 
necessary  to  create  greater  equality,  to  enter  the  ranks 
of  the  workers,  and  that  to  do  good,  actual,  tangible  good 
it  was  necessary  to  identify  himself  with  the  people  who 
were  making  the  struggle :  to  work  with  his  hands,  living 
amongst  them  in  equality  of  condition;  and  as  amongst 
his  various  gifts  was  the  gift  of  craftsmanship  and  book- 
binding in  all  of  its  branches,  a  thoroughly  studied  and 
practised  employment,  he  had  selected  that  as  his  trade, 
his  sign  of  brotherhood.  He  had  realized  thoroughly 
that  only  in  some  way  that  could  be  seen  and  understood 
of  the  people,  could  he  work.  Any  slightest  sign  of  de- 

236 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

marcation  between  them  and  him,  such  as  there  must 
be  were  he  to  earn  his  living  along  intellectual  lines, 
would  fail  of  the  result.  So  he  had  rented  a  small  shop, 
fitted  it  up  with  the  tools  of  the  trade,  adopted  the  dress 
and  outward  signs  of  the  worker,  and  so  got  into  touch 
with  his  adopted  environment. 

He  lived  in  two  small  rooms  back  of  the  shop,  and  as 
simply  as  the  poorest  of  the  quarter.  He  had  now  been 
there  two  years  and  the  people  knew  him,  saw  that  he 
worked  as  hard  as  any  of  them,  lived  as  poorly,  and  they 
gave  him  their  confidence,  recognizing  in  a  dim  way  that 
he  was  superior,  but  feeling  no  distrust  of  that  superior- 
ity, as  he  was  a  worker. 

Many  of  the  boys  in  the  quarter  he  had  influenced  to 
join  the  crafts  classes,  believing  that  given  an  interesting 
employment  for  hands  and  brain,  the  restlessness  of 
spirit,  the  misdirection  of  energy  that  so  often  results  in 
ruin,  mentally,  spiritually  and  physically,  might  be 
averted. 

Gradually  he  had  converted  his  two  rooms  into  a  home. 
As  he  came  across  things  rare,  beautiful  and  interesting 
during  his  prowls  amongst  small  dingy  shops,  he  had 
bought  them,  always  making  some  sacrifice  to  do  it.  Had 
then  used  them  as  object  lessons  to  his  pupils,  giving 
them  thus  pleasantly  the  knowledge  of  bigger,  broader 
worlds,  of  arts,  of  people.  A  set  of  old  vellum  bound 
books  unearthed  from  the  depths  of  a  dark,  small  shop, 
which  were  good  examples  of  the  printing,  binding  and 
engraving  of  their  time  (1690)  had  been  the  subject 
of  a  series  of  talks  relative  to  the  discovery  of  printing, 
the  various  schools  of  bookbinding,  the  art  of  etching  on 
copper,  steel  and  wood.  At  the  end  of  the  talks  he  had 
taken  the  classes  one  day  up  to  the  Museum  to  see  an  ex- 
hibit of  old  books,  missals  and  manuscripts. 

A  piece  of  old  Nankin  china  had  been  productive  of 
long  and  interesting  talks,  which  brought  in  so  much  of 
geography,  history,  manners  and  customs,  besides  the 

237 


CHUMS 

condensed  account  of  pottery-making  from  its  inception 
to  the  present  time,  and  necessitated  so  much  consulting 
of  maps,  looking  up  books  of  reference  and  viewing  col- 
lections by  the  intensely  interested  lads,  that  an  entire 
winter  had  slipped  by,  and  so  had  he  led  them  on  until 
his  class  had  grown  far  too  big  for  the  room  and  the 
large  hall  had  been  given  up  to  it. 

All  of  these  things  were  not  told  during  one  or  two  or 
a  dozen  home-goings,  but  by  the  time  they  all  had  been 
told  Nalton  and  the  Professor  had  learned  to  know  each 
other  well:  and  the  other  workers  were  lifting  amused 
and  interested  eyebrows. 

Phosbe  said  to  Miriam  and  Thelda  one  day,  as  they  sat 
at  table  waiting  for  Nalton  to  arrive, — 

"Well,  girls,  it  looks  to  me  as  though  our  'vested  in- 
terest' in  the  settlement  work  was  going  to  be  increased, 
and  pretty  soon  we  shall  be  sitting  three  at  table.  When 
that  time  comes,  I  move  we  pick  up  sticks  and  go  down 
town.  This  is  altogether  too  far  away  from  the  v.  i.'s. 
I've  had  my  eye  on  a  row  of  old  houses,  any  one  of 
which  we  could  get  rooms  in  I'm  sure.  They  are  about 
the  last  of  '  old  New  York, '  and  possibly  the  drains  may 
be  wrong  and  certainly  the  houses  would  crumble  into 
dust  should  there  be  an  earthquake  shock,  but  we  can 
stop  up  drains  and  take  chances  on  the  '  quakes, '  for  they 
are  ducky  old  places,  with  long,  narrow  gardens  in  front, 
front  balconies  to  each  story,  and  any  quantity  of  vines 
and  ivy  climbing  about,  and  it's  not  more  than  fifteen 
minutes'  walk  from  Honor  and  the  others.  What  do 
you  say?" 

"I,  for  one,  say  yes,"  said  Miriam,  whilst  Thelda  was 
silent  and  looked  absorbedly  into  the  teapot. 

"Well!"  queried  Phcebe  of  her. 

She  started  and  blushed  and  said  finally, — 

"Why,  girls,  I  have  something  to  tell  you  and— and 

» 

"Oh,  go  ahead,  honey,"  said  Miriam,  "we  won't  eat 

238 


LIFE'S   GREAT   HIGHWAY 

you!  Don't  you  approve  of  the  old  house  with  its  prob- 
able bad  drains  and  general  crumbliness  ?  " 

"Oh,  it's  not  that,  but — but— oh  well,  I  have  prom- 
ised to  marry  Harry  Miller." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  then  Phoebe  and  Miriam 
simultaneously  rose  and  solemnly  kissed  her. 

She  laughed  nervously  and  said, — 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you  long  ago,  but  I  dreaded  you 
would  tease  so,  as  Harry  had  always  been  thought  of  as 
heart  broken  over  Bliss's  marriage,  and  someway  I  felt 
rather  silly. ' ' 

"My  dear,  you  are  the  most  sensible  small  person  I 
know  and  when  the  others  know  of  this  there  will  be 
great  rejoicing,"  said  Phoebe,  whilst  Miriam  hugged  her 
again,  "but  oh,  I  say,  Miriam,  now  look  me  straight  in 
the  eye,  have  you  got  a  husband  up  your  sleeve,  and  am 
I  to  be  the  only  one  who  is  to  move  into  the  '  old  house  ? ' 
I  can  stand  it,  I  suppose,  but  really,  I  would  like  to 
know  definitely,  it  makes  it  a  trifle  easier  to  plan. ' ' 

Miriam  and  Thelda  laughed  and  Miriam  replied,— 

"Nary  a  one,  dear.  It  looks  to  me  as  though  we  are 
to  be  the  'bachelors'  of  the  family,  and  do  the  devoted 
'maiden  aunties'  act.  Here  comes  Nalton,  I  hear  her 
coming  up  the  stairs;  put  in  the  hot  water  Phoebe  and 
bring  in  the  salad  whilst  I  dish  the  chicken.  The  dear's 
probably  famished.  I  don't  notice  that  any  of  you  lose 
much  appetite  to  speak  of,  if  you  are  in  love. ' ' 

Nalton  came  in  somewhat  timidly  and  replied  to  the 
others'  questions  in  an  embarrassed  way. 

Phoebe,  who  was  pouring  the  tea,  looked  sharply  at  her 
a  minute,  then  set  the  pot  on  its  rest  and  leaning  back 
in  her  chair,  said,— 

"Well,  Nallie  girl,  when  do  we  get  our  bridesmaids' 
dresses  ? ' ' 

Nalton  gasped  and  the  others  laughed. 

"Truly  child,  you  must  think  we  are  all  deaf  and 
dumb  and  qualifying  for  weakmindedness.  So  you 

239 


CHUMS 

thought  the  big  August's  intentions  were  discreetly 
veiled— talk  of  ostriches !  I  wonder ! ' ' 

As  Nalton's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  Thelda  got  up  and 
went  over  to  her, — 

"Don't  mind,  honey,  I've  just  had  to  submit  to  about 
the  same  thing."  And  as  Nalton  looked  at  her  inquir- 
ingly,— "Yes,  I'm  going  to  marry  Harry,  so  we'll  make 
it  a  double  wedding  and  divide  this  family  attention. ' ' 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad,  Thelda!  Dear  old  Hal,  how  nice  to 
think  he  will  be  one  of  us, "  said  Nalton.  tenderly. 

"I  think,"  remarked  Phrebe,  dryly,  "that  whilst  all 
this  congratulating  is  going  on,  there  might  be  a  bit  of 
condolence  given  to  the  ones  of  us  who  are  to  be  left. 
How  do  you  suppose  it  is  going  to  seem  for  Miriam  and 
me  to  have  to  face  each  other  week  in  and  week  out.  three 
times  a  day,  over  a  tiny  table,  after  there  has  been  al- 
ways such  a  lot  of  us?  Mimi,  we'll  have  to  set  up  a  cat 
and  parrot. ' ' 

And  so  the  slight  tension  of  the  moment  was  relieved 
by  laughter,  and  they  talked  quite  happily  over  the  vari- 
ous plans. 

Theodocia's  visit  of  a  month  had  lengthened  into  five, 
but  now  she  definitely  decided  to  return  to  Paris,  where 
the  chums  were  waiting  for  her  and  from  whence  came 
bushels  of  letters,  all  urging  her  return,  and  she  was  only 
delaying  until  after  Nalton's  wedding  to  the  Professor 
and  Thelda's  to  Harry  Miller. 

The  women  sat  late  one  afternoon  in  Mary's  room, 
talking  over  times  past  and  present  and  wondering  over 
the  future,  when,  after  a  moment's  pause  in  the  talk, 
Phxsbe  said, — 

"Theodocia,  what  a  wonderful  life  you  have  led,  have 
you  not  ? ' ' 

Theodocia  glanced  at  her  and  getting  up  went  over  to 
the  fire-place,  where  she  stood  looking  down  into  the 
coals,  finally  answering,— 

"Yes,  wonderful !    I  have  written  it  all  down,  and  I've 

240 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

tried  to  be  perfectly  honest  with  myself,  and  I  shall  send 
it  to  you  sometime.  It  will  be  just  for  you  women  whom 
I  love.  I  know  you  want  to  understand  a  number  of 
things  that  you  are  puzzled  about,  and  I  want  that  you 
should."  Then,  abruptly,  "How  old  do  you  think  I  am, 
girls?" 

"No  one  answered  for  a  moment,  then  Mary  an- 
swered,— 

''Truly,  Theo,  I  have  no  idea,  you  don't  look  a  minute 
older  than  you  did  when  I  first  saw  you  and  that 
was 

"Fifteen  years  ago,"  supplemented  Theodocia, 

as  the  other  paused. 

"Was  it  that  long  ago?  Yes,  of  course,  so  it  must 
have  have  been." 

"Well,  that  does  not  answer  the  question;  what  do 
you  say,  Martha,  you're  a  very  literal  person  and  one 
can  feel  certain  of  the  absolute  truth  in  your  statements. 
The. rest  of  them  seem  afraid  to  tackle  the  question." 

"You -are  about  forty-five,"  answered  Martha. 

Theo  lifted  her  brows — 

"I  won't  retract  what  I  said  as  to  your  truth-telling, 
because  you  evidently  believe  what  you  say,  but  my  re- 
spect for  your  judgment  from  now  on  is  gone.  Any  oth- 
er guess  coming?  Come,  this  begins  to  be  interesting. 
Do  you  women  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  have  not 
amongst  you  given  me  an  age?  Well,  that  is  amazing! 
How  do  you  account  for  it?" 

"Goodness'  sake !  Theo,  who  ever  thinks  of  your  age ? 
It's  you  one  thinks  of,"  said  Mary.  The  rest  nodded,— 

"Yes,  that's  it  exactly." 

Theo  whistled.  "Well,  I  am  fifty-six  years  old."  And 
seeing  the  blank  amazement  on  their  faces,  she  laughed 
mischievously,  "Honor  bright,  fifty-six  on  the  ninth  of 
last  September." 

"I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,  it's  too  absurd,  why 
even  with  your  gray  hair  you  don't  look  forty,"  said 
Honor,  ' '  of  course  she 's  teasing. ' ' 

241 


CHUMS 

"No,  I'm  not,  it's  the  naked  truth,  and  an  account  of 
the  greater  part  of  those  fifty-six  years  is  on  paper  and 
you're  going  to  have  it  to  read  within  the  next  year." 

It  was  decided  that  Nalton  and  her  professor  should 
take  one  of  the  apartments  in  the  buildings,  where  they 
would  be  convenient  to  the  settlement  and  amongst  the 
people  for  whom  they  were  working.  Their  neighbors 
would  be  Martha  and  her  family,  and  little  Carrie  O'Bri- 
en, who  was  now  a  matron  of  standing  in  the  quarter, 
being  a  most  excellent  housekeeper  and  making  her  big 
John  the  envied  of  all  his  bachelor  friends.  There  had 
recently  come  a  small  John  to  the  home  and  Carrie  was 
religiously  putting  into  practice  all  of  her  acquired 
knowledge  of  the  care  of  babies,  and  being  the  earnest 
person  she  was  the  small  John  was  nearly  scraped  and 
scrubbed  out  of  existence.  She  kept  her  little  home  a 
miracle  of  cleanliness  and  prettiness,  and  found  time  to 
attend  several  of  the  settlement  classes  more  or  less  reg- 
ularly. Her  example  of  cheerful  thrift  was  of  great  value 
to  the  young  couples  who  are  contemplating  matri- 
mony. 

The  double  wedding  took  place  at  the  flat,  and  after 
a  most  rollicking  breakfast, — for  everyone  was  happy 
over  the  event, — the  two  couples  left  for  a  two  weeks' 
trip  to  the  Adirondacks  where  Harry  Miller  owned  a 
most  delightful  camp. 

On  their  return,  Thelda  would  go  to  the  big  old  Mad- 
ison Avenue  house  where  the  Millers  had  lived  for  three 
generations,  and  Nalton  to  the  toy  flat  at  the  top  of  the 
big  model  tenement. 

The  day  after  the  weddings,  Miriam  and  Phrebe  moved 
into  their  new  quarters,  in  the  corner  house  of  the  row 
that  Phoebe  lost  her  heart  to,  and  fitting  it  up  with  the 
pretty  things  that  were  left  after  the  general  distribu- 
tion, settled  down  to  home-keeping. 

There  were  a  number  of  art  students  in  the  house,  and 
a  jolly,  happy,  sociable  lot  they  were,  who  called  on 
them  the  second  day  of  their  arrival. 

242 


LIFE'S   GREAT  HIGHWAY 

There  was  a  landlady,  whom  they  recognized  as  a 
character,  immediately,  and  who  took  them  to  her  heart, 
and  a  week  after  their  arrival  they  were  all  as  well  ac- 
quainted as  though  they  had  known  each  other  for  years, 
so  that  any  feeling  of  loneliness  that  might  well  have 
come  to  them  when  their  family  was  reduced  to  two  was1 
conspicuous  by  its  absence.  And  it  was  soon  a  recog- 
nized custom  that  the  sisters  should  gather  over  the  Sun- 
day tea-table  at  the  "hennery"  as  it  was  called  because 
there  were  so  many  women  there.  Husbands  and  friends 
left  them  undisturbed  to  talk  of  affairs,  ask  and  give  ad- 
vice, and  be  happy  together. 

Bliss  had  returned  and  often  joined  the  others,  but  al- 
though she  was  the  same  soft,  loving  Bliss,  her  position 
was  different  and  its  responsibilities  as  the  wife  of  a 
wealthy  man,  whose  interests,  politically  and  socially 
were  increasing,  left  her  scant  leisure  for  the  Sunday 
afternoon  meetings. 

That  the  marriages  of  Honor  and  Nalton  had  been  and 
were  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  her  husband  was  felt  by  the 
others,  but  as  Bliss  was  happy  and  apparently  as  filled 
with  affection  for  the  girls  as  ever,  she  made  it  very  easy 
for  them  to  regard  their  brother-in-law's  disapproval 
with  indifference. 

One  Sunday  when  they  had  gathered  at  the  "hen- 
nery," Miriam  said, — 

"Girls,  it's  just  three  years  since  we  faced  our  al- 
tered circumstances.  Have  we  ever  regretted  the  old 
days,  or  been  unhappy  in  the  new  conditions  ? ' ' 

"Not  I,  for  one,"  answered  Phrebe. 

"Not  any  of  us,"  answered  Honor,  and  as  Nalton  filled 
the  last  cup  from  the  squatty  pot  that  had  been  one  of 
their  treasures  brought  from  the  old  home, — 

"Let  us  drink  a  toast  to  Life — good  old  Life— so  full 
of  possibilities  for  those  who  are  willing  to  go  even  a  lit- 
tle way  towards  meeting  them. ' ' 


243 


The  Diary  of  a  "Shut-in 


OV.  20TH,— It  has  come  to  the  point  where 
I  must  look  my  position  squarely  in  the 
face.  I  have  been  cowardly  and  put  it  off 
from  day  to  day. 

Here  am  I,  Hilda  Martin,  aged  forty- 
two,  income  fifty-odd  dollars  a  month,  no 
relations  nearer  than  Scotland  and  those 
forty-second  cousins!  Suddenly,  without 
warning,  in  a  second,  changed  from  an  active,  busy  wom- 
an, earning  what  for  a  woman  is  a  large  income,  into  a 
woman  condemned  for  the  remainder  of  life  to  a  thing 
called  a  "bed-couch"  and  fifty-odd. 

After  the  first  horror  of  the  thing  was  over,  I  think 
probably  I  was  numb,  had  suffered  so  terribly  that 
everything  but  mere  physical  pain  seemed  not  to  count, 
but  now,  after  ten  months  in  the  hospital,  am  as  well  as 
I  shall  ever  be,  and  the  numbness  has  gone  from  my 
mind.  Everyone  has  been  as  kind  as  could  be  to  me,  but 
ten  months  is  a  long  time  and  life  is  short  and  for  the 
few  I  know  a  thing  of  considerable  stress,  so  that  visitors 
have  dwindled  until  now  about  the  only  one  who  comes 
often  is  kind  old  Jimmy  Wise — funny  that!  And  he 
comes  and  plays  to  me  and  reads  to  me,  although  now  I 
can  read  to  myself  again  I'd  much  rather  talk  with  him. 
I  find  I  like  to  hear  all  of  the  little  gossip  and  tittle-tat- 
tle ;  it 's  all  of  interest  to  me  since  my  world  has  dwindled 
to  four  walls.  Here  I  keep  on  chatting,  instead  of  fac- 
ing my  problem;  said  problem  is,  how  to  arrange  my 
life  so  that  I  need  be  of  no  trouble  to  anyone,  and  do 
that  on  my  limited  income. 

Mrs.  Nosey,— Ye  Gods!  what  a  name!— is  the  kindest 
thing  and  has  agreed  to  let  me  have  this  corner  front 
room  of  hers  on  the  first  floor  for  a  year  in  exchange  for- 

245 


CHUMS 

the  furnishings  of  my  old  apartment,  I  keeping  enough 
to  furnish  this  room,  and  by  so  doing  she  will  be  able  to 
furnish  four  rooms  and  rent  them. — Poor  soul,  but  she 
has  had  a  hard  time !— So  for  one  year  I  shall  be  able  to 
save  more  than  I  shall  spend. 

I  forgot  to  put  down  the  fact  that  every  morning  she 
is  to  give  me  my  bath  and  straighten  things  for  me.  The 
remainder  of  the  time  I  must  look  out  for  myself.  I  find 
that  I  can  do  a  lot  for  myself  by  the  aid  of  the  little 
" helps  for  helplessness"  that  Jimmy  has  rigged  up.  I 
can  wheel  my  chair  about  the  room  and  I  can  actually 
dust  a  bit,  and  arrange  a  bit. 

There  is  an  open  grate  in  my  room  and  by  being  very 
careful  I  can  have  a  fire  on  these  cold  days. 

As  I  look  about  me  and  recognize  the  familiar  books 
and  pictures,  the  embroideries  and  the  brasses,  my  heart 
gets  very  warm. 

The  doctor  said  that  in  the  spring  I  might  have  my 
chair  out-of-doors  on  the  sidewalk.  That  will  be  fun,  but 
how  to  get  it  out  there  will  be  a  problem.  However,  as 
it's  only  the  very  beginning  of  winter  I  need  not  worry 
over  what  will  be  in  the  spring. 

Nov.  21sT, — I  stopped  yesterday  because  Mrs.  Nosey 
came  in,  and,  saying  that  she  would  stay  a  moment, 
stayed  an  hour  and  a  half.  She  is  full  of  the  subject  of 
her  lodgers  and  their  ways.  One  in  particular  seems  to 
have  won  her  heart.  He  is  the  "top  floor  back,"  looks 
delicate  and  is  a  'musician.  Poor,  evidently, — second  or 
third  violin  in  the  orchestra  of  one  of  the  small  theatres. 
She  says  he  ' '  fends  for  himself ' '  and  is  as  neat  as  an  old 
maid  about  everything  and  always  has  a  pleasant  word 
for  her. 

Then  there  is  an  elderly  man  who  is  evidently  a  char- 
acter and  looks  like  Santa  Glaus.  Mrs.  Nosey  thinks  he 
Ms  seen  better  days  and  is  "quite  the  gentleman." 

There  is  a  lame  girl  who  works  in  a  feather  factory, 

246 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

and  there  is  a  woman  whom  Mrs.  N.  seems  to  entertain 
suspicions  of.  I  listened  with  decided  interest.  I  never 
thought  I  should  come  to  back-stair  gossip,  but  I  find 
myself  feeling  an  interest  in  everything  and  anything. 

To-day  the  sky  is  lead  color  and  there  is  a  cold  wind 
blowing.  I  have  been  for  the  last  hour  watching  the 
passers-by.  I  am  so  glad  that  this  is  a  busy  quarter  and 
that  I  can  get  glimpses  of  activity  outside  my  little  room. 

Miss  Tobin  came  in  just  as  I  was  getting  my  tea  ready 
and  we  had  a  nice  talk.  She  is  such  a  splendid,  strong, 
kind  woman  and  she  approves  of  my  intention  of  doing 
just  as  much  for  myself  as  possible  and  keeping  up  an 
interest  in  things,  instead  of  drifting  into  the  sort  of 
hopeless,  helpless  invalidism,  but  as  I  told  her,  it  is 
greatly  a  matter  of  temperament.  Nothing  short  of  sheer 
physical  suffering  can  down  me  long.  I  am  evidently  of 
the  "bob  up  serenely"  type. 

I  showed  her  how  I  had  things  so  that  I  could  get  my 
own  meals.  Jimmy  has  rigged  me  up  the  most  conve- 
nient little  kitchenette,  all  in  a  space  of  three  feet  by 
five ;  I  can  wheel  my  chair  up  to  it  and  there  at  hand  is 
everything  necessary. 

I  told  Mary  Tobin  how  I  had  systematized  things  and 
she  said  it  was  no  wonder  I  had  been  so  successful  with 
my  work  before  my  accident,  and  only  wished  she  could 
get  a  little  of  that  quality  into  her  classes. 

After  we  had  had  our  tea  and  she  had  gone,  as  I  sat 
at  the  window  in  the  dusk  watching  the  lights  come  out 
in  the  windows  and  stalls  and  the  people  go  hurrying  by 
in  the  cold  grayness,  I  thought  of  a  scheme  by  which,  by 
and  by,  I  may  be  able  to  earn  a  little  money,  so  that  I  can 
get  books  occasionally  and  put  by  a  bit. 

Am  awfully  grateful  for  this  little  income  I  have  and 
now  that  the  hideous  pain  is  over  (and  the  doctor  says 
that  it  probably  is)  I  can  find  it  in  my  heart  to  pick  up 
my  senses  again,  and  see  what  I  can  do  with  my  life. 

I  had  a  Stevenson  mood  on  today  and  read  a  good  num- 

247 


CHUMS 

ber  of  my  favorites.  Will  o'  the  Mill  just  seemed  to  fit 
my  mood,  which  had  a  good  bit  of  Weltschmerz  in  it  for 
a  while,  that  I  positively  shall  not  allow  myself  to  give 
way  to. 

I  saw  the  ''top  floor  back"  this  morning:  he  has  a  fine 
face  and  does  look  delicate  and  he  was  altogether  too 
thinly  dressed  for  this  very  "forard"  weather.  Evi- 
dently he  is  poor  and  I  suppose  a  struggling  genius. 
That  he  is  a  gentleman  it  is  very  plain  to  see  by  his  man- 
ner to  poor  Nosey,  whom  he  treats  as  though  she  were  a 
duchess. 

Mary  Tobin  asked  me  if  I  wanted  the  prettiest  thing 
in  the  way  of  a  small  doggie  that  ever  was  seen,  and  I 
said  Yes,  I  just  did,  if  it  was  trained  and  would  not  make 
Nosey  any  trouble.  It  is  one  that  some  friends  of  hers 
own,  and  as  they  are  going  away  to  California  and  can- 
ijot  take  it  with  them,  they  want  to  give  it  away.  It  is 
a  little,  inky  black,  toy  terrier.  I  spoke  to  Nosey  and  she 
said  "to  be  sure,  Mrs.  Martin,  it  will  be  real  company 
for  you."  Most  lodging-house  keepers  would  have 
frowned  upon  such  a  suggestion. 

Nov.  29TH, — Have  had  such  a  nice  week.  It  has  been 
quite  filled  with  occurrences  of  interest.  First  Mary 
Tobin  brought  me  the  doggie,  such  a  dear!  no  bigger 
than  a  pint  pot,  and  with  the  blackest  and  silkiest  hair, 
long  and  quite  wavy.  Her  name  is  Midget,  called  Midge, 
and  she  is  the  sharpest,  smartest  little  mite,  took  to  me 
immediately  and  now  seems  as  much  at  home  as  though 
she  had  always  been  here. 

The  day  before  Thanksgiving  I  had  an  attack  of  the 
blues.  I  could  not  help  contrasting  things  as  they  are 
with  things  as  they  were  and  I  just  had  to  pull  myself 
together  with  a  good  round  turn.  I  decided  that  Nosey 
and  I  should  have  our  Thanksgiving  dinner  together  and 
ask  the  nice  "top  floor  back"  to  join  us.  I  had  met  and 
talked  with  him  a  couple  of  days  before.  It  happened 

248 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

this  way.  I  had  left  the  door  into  the  hall  open  for 
Midge,  and  someone  opened  a  door  somewhere  else,  so 
that  there  was  a  draught,  and  my  door  blew  wide  open 
with  a  bang,  just  as  he  came  down  the  stairs  with  his 
violin  case  and  music  roll,  and  as  he  looked  up  at  the 
open  door  Midge  proceeded  to  do  a  war  dance  at  his  feet, 
barking  like  mad.  I  called  to  Midge,  he  saw  me  in  my 
chair,  raised  his  hat  and  smiled  and  I  smiled  back  at  him ; 
then  while  he  spoke  of  Midge  and  was  admiring  her, 
Nosey  came  along  and  introduced  us.  1  saw  him  glance 
about  with  an  expression  of  amaze,  and  presently  he 
went. 

When  I  decided  to  have  a  Thanksgiving  spread  I 
thought  I  'd  risk  a  rebuff  and  invite  him,  for  his  face  was 
so  sad  and  I  thought  his  eyes  looked  lonely.  So  I  sent  a 
little  note  asking  him  if  he  wanted  to  do  an  act  of  kind- 
ness ?  If  he  did,  to  come  and  help  eat  a  small,  but  very 
fat  turkey,  baked  sweet  potatoes,  cranberry  sauce  and 
plum  pudding,— all  of  Nosey 's  cooking,  and  she  is  a 
right  royal  cook,— and  after  to  play  me  something,  as  it 
had  been  months  since  I  had  heard  any  good  violin  music 
and  I  was  fairly  starved  for  it.— That  last,  I  fancy,  did 
the  business  and  we  had  the  jolliest  kind  of  a  time,  whilst 
the  snow  and  sleet  and  hail  drove  in  sheets  against  the 
windows. 

'Tis  going  to  be  a  long  hard  winter,  commencing,  as  it 
has,  so  early.  God  help  the  very  poor.  From  my  south- 
west window  I  can  see  a  part  of  two  streets  and  along  one 
there  are  some  fruit,  vegetable,  macaroni  and  oil  shops, 
along  the  other  some  of  the  old  fine  houses  of  the  days  of 
early  New  York,  the  last  left  I  fancy,  and  they  are  most- 
ly turned  into  the  workshops  of  the  many  small  trades 
that  flourish  so  in  a  great  city,  so  I  see  the  work  people 
passing  to  and  from  their  work,  and  I  see  the  housewives 
of  the  quarter  doing  their  small  marketing,  all  of  which 
is  of  great  interest  to  me. 

I  forgot  to  say  how  I  did  enjoy  the  music  on  Thanks- 

249 


CHUMS 

giving  night.  Mr.  Vail  entertained  us  for  an  hour  and, 
after  playing  everything  I  asked  for,  finally  played  some 
lovely  things  that  he  said  a  friend  composed.  I  feel  cer- 
tain that  they  are  his  own.  It  did  my  heart  good  to  see 
how  he  enjoyed  his  dinner  and  his  evening,  and  we  all 
parted  the  best  of  friends.  Dear  old  Nosey  quite  came 
out  and  told  us  of  her  girlhood  days  spent  in  a  little 
Welsh  village,  of  her  father,  the  village  doctor,  of  her 
rides  with  him  over  the  rough  mountain  roads  on  his  vis- 
its to  patients.  I  told  of  my  queer  upbringing  and  a  lit- 
tle of  my  life,  not  much,  but  enough  so  that  I  might  seem 
to  be  doing  my  share.  Mr.  Vail  gave  us  a  sketch  of  his 
boyhood:  brought  up  in  the  heart  of  the  Rockies  by  a 
queer,  silent,  embittered  father,  knowing  no  other  com- 
panionship until  his  twentieth  year  but  the  rough  miners 
of  the  district,  living  a  studious  life,  books  and  music 
making  his  world.  Then  of  his  father's  sudden  death 
and  his  finding  that  there  was  a  small  income  assured  to 
him;  his  determination  to  see  the  world  and  hear  the 
great  musicians,  see  the  great  pictures  and  feel  for  once 
the  ' '  pulse  of  humanity. ' '  Then  of  his  three  years '  trav- 
el, from  farthest  east  to  farthest  west,  from  north  to 
south,  until  in  his  mind  and  on  his  heart  were  clearly 
marked  the  world  boundaries  and  humanity's  outlook. 
Following  that,  five  hard  studious  years  under  the 
"great  man"  and  his  discovery  that  his  gift,  whilst  a 
true  one,  yet  missed  the  divine  spark;  and  then,  whilst 
that  knowledge  bit  deep  into  heart  and  soul  and  for 
awhile  nearly  drove  him  to  desperation,  came  the  news 
of  the  loss  of  his  small  patrimony,  and  the  necessity  to 
earn  his  living.  I  guess  that  simple  as  his  wants  are,  he 
yet  finds  it  difficult  always  to  supply  them,  owing  to  the 
lack  of  the  practical  in  his  make-up.  And  I  think  he 
forgets  his  necessity  for  earning  in  his  passion  for  com- 
posing, and  so  often  loses  pupils  and  opportunities. 

I  think  that  dear  old  Jimmy  would  like  him.     They 
are  so  absolutely  opposite  in  temperament,  yet  have  such 

250 


THE  DIAEY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

similar  tastes.     I  find  that  generally  a  safe  basis  for 
friendship. 

DEC.  GTH,— Martha  Holding  has  just  gone.  She 
brought  one  of  those  blessed  cherubs  to  see  me,  and 
Midge,  who  usually  hides  behind  the  valance  of  the  couch 
at  the  sight  of  a  child  and  is  deaf  to  threats  or  coaxings, 
went  voluntarily  to  little  Theo  and  the  child  sat  holding 
the  small  thing  as  quietly  as  could  be  the  entire  time. 

Martha  says  that  they  are  working  over  the  plans  of 
another  apartment  house  and  every  one  who  has  a  sug- 
gestion to  make  anent  convenience  or  comfort  or  beauty, 
is  asked  to  make  it.  This  one  is  not  for  a  family  one,  but 
for  the  unmarried,— for  the  girls  and  women  who  have  to 
work  long  hours  and  must  be  in  the  city,  yet  who  crave 
a  little  home,  if  it  is  only  one  room.  So  each  apartment 
is  to  have  a  tiny  kitchenette  and  a  bed-sitting-room,  and 
a  clothes  closet  and  a  shower  closet:  and  for  those  who 
want  to  club  together  and  keep  house  there  are  to  be 
apartments  of  several  rooms.  On  each  floor  there  will  be 
public  bathrooms  where,  by  paying  two  cents,  they  can 
get  hot  tubs.  Then  there  will  be  comfortable  reading 
rooms  and  lots  of  small,  pretty  reception  rooms,  and  a 
very  large  parlor. 

There  are  to  be  no  rules  of  any  sort.  It  is  to  be  just 
what  any  apartment  hotel  would  be.  As  Martha  says,  it 
is  not  a  charitable  proposition,  but  simply  to  give  women 
and  girls  who  work  hard  a  chance  to  live  in  comfort, 
taking  it  for  granted  that  they  are  decent.  If  by  chance 
some  few  others  drift  in  they  won't  like  it  and  will  go  of 
their  own  accord. 

I  never  have  seen  such  sensible,  kind-all-through  peo- 
ple as  the  Holding  Settlement  lot.  Oh !  but  I  am  glad  I 
know  them.  Yes,  Hilda,  my  dear,  you  are  in  great  good 
luck.  Martha  said  today  that  very  shortly  they  expected 
some  chums  who  have  been  living  for  years  abroad  and 
that  she  wanted  me  to  know  them.  Now  that's  nice.  I 

251 


CHUMS 

am  so  glad  that  people  are  beginning  to  treat  me  as 
though  I  were  a  responsible  member  of  society.  I  con- 
fess I  hate  to  be  pitied,  and  it 's  not  good  for  me. 

Martha  was  amazed  at  the  convenience  of  my  domestic 
arrangements,  and  when  I  told  her  that  most  of  them 
were  Jimmy 's  inventions  she  said,  ' '  Tell  Mr.  Wise  I  want 
his  help  with  some  plans,  will  you  ?  Why,  he  is  the  kind 
of  man  who  would  be  invaluable.  The  average  architect 
is  so  hidebound  and  opinionated,  not  to  mention  being 
stingy  with  closets,  that  for  the  kind  of  plans  we  are  try- 
ing to  carry  out  he  is  absolutely  no  good,  and  how  he 
tries  one 's  temper ! ' ' 

The  Duchess  sent  me  a  little  book.  Only  about  a  hun- 
dred pages,  but  the  most  delightful  thing  to  me,written 
by  some  friend  of  hers  and  only  for  her  chums  So  I 
shall  copy  it,  probably  all  of  it,  if  the  Duchess  doesn't 
mind,  and  she  will  not. 

After  Martha  left  I  was  doing  up  the  tea  things  and 
humming  to  myself,  when  I  heard  a  queer  little  noise  and 
I  turned  to  find  Midge  caught  by  her  ribbon  on  the  dav- 
enport arm  and  swinging  like  a  tassel,  almost  strangled. 
I  was  so  weak  after  I  had  rescued  the  dear  thing  that  I 
fairly  wept,  and  I  realized  how  she  had  crept  into  my 
heart  in  just  this  short  time,  with  her  pretty  little  lov- 
ing ways  and  quick  intelligence. 

Oh,  dear !  how  we  do  have  to  pay  for  each  joy  in  life. 
We  cannot  even  have  the  affection  and  devotion  of  a 
wee  black  doggie  without  paying  the  price  in  anxiety  and 
real  heartache. 

DEC.  17TH,— I  have  bought  one  of  those  Lilliputian 
sewing  machines  that  one  can  put  on  a  cutting-board  on. 
one's  lap,  if  one  wants  to,— and  I  have  to,— and  I  am 
busy  at  some  flannel  and  serge  dresses  for  the  settlement 
Christmas  tree.  I  wanted  to  do  something  for  both  the 
workers  and  the  small  fry  of  the  district,  and  as  that 
beautiful  cousin  of  Martha's,  Mrs.  Bell  Ferguson,  had 

252 


THE  DIAEY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

sent  ten  bolts  each  of  flannel  and  serge,  I  offered  to  make 
the  dresses.  So  I  am  working  every  moment,  even  eve- 
nings, to  get  them  done  in  time.  I  have  the  nicest  little 
assistant,  she  is  only  about  sixteen  or  so:  the  most  de- 
mure small  person  who  never  speaks  unless  spoken  to, 
and  who  looks  at  me  with  such  great  eyes  that  I  wonder 
what  they  have  told  her  of  me.  I  think  after  we  have 
had  another  day  or  so  together  I  shall  be  able  to  break 
the  ice,  for  I  have  asked  her  to  have  lunch  with  me  and  I 
can  see  that  she  is  bursting  to  express  her  wonder  over 
my  small  household  arrangements.  I  think  she  wants  to 
help  but  has  been  told  not  to,  as  I  am  eccentric  and  do 
not  want  to  be  treated  as  an  invalid. 

She  is,  it  seems,  an  old  protege  of  Martha's  and  is  one 
of  a  family  of  children  whose  parents  died  when  the  eld- 
est, her  sister,  who  brought  them  up,  was  but  twelve  or 
so.  The  whole  family  have  lived  for  some  eight  years  in 
the  country  with  the  oldest  sister,  who  has  recently  mar- 
ried, and  this  girl,  Alantha  May  (pronounced  as  though 
it  were  one  word)  is  living  with  her  sister  and  brother- 
in-law,  over  their  shop,  whilst  the  other  children  are 
with  some  rieighbors  in  the  country. 

A  pretty,  round,  chubby  girl,  is  Alantha  May,  and  has 
such  red  cheeks  and  bright  eyes,  and  is  wonderful  with 
her  needle.  Her  ambition  is  to  do  only  fine  work,  but  un- 
til she  can  get  that  to  do  she  earns  what  she  can  at  the 
other.  When  she  comes  and  goes  she  drops  the  prettiest 
little  curtsies.  It  is  very  plain  that  she  has  had  a  good 
training.  I  shall  hope  to  see  the  sister,  Mary  Tobin  says 
that  she  is  a  most  remarkable  person. 

JAN.  IST,— The  New  Year  fairly  commenced.  Christ- 
mas week  was  a  busy  one.  I  worked  on  the  dresses  until 
I  was  a  rag,  but  we  got  them  done  and  sent  over  in  time, 
also  a  hundred  net  popcorn  mittens,  bound  with  red  and 
filled  with  popcorn.  Jimmy  Wise  and  Mr.  Vail  popped 
the  corn  and  filled  the  mittens  on  Christmas  eve. 

253 


CHUMS 

Jimmy  came  in  about  five  o'clock  and  from  each  pock- 
et produced  a  package.  A  bottle  of  oysters,  a  bottle  of 
half-milk,  half-cream,  a  tin  box  of  crisp  crackers,  a  pat 
of  fresh  butter  and  a  hot  apple  turn-over.  After  Alan- 
tha  May  had  left,  we  cleared  away  the  sewing  and  I  set 
the  table,  which  is  done  by  lifting  up  a  drop  leaf  of  my 
kitchenette  and  from  the  drawers  underneath  getting  out 
the  table  outfit,  all  of  which  I  can  do  from  my  chair. 
Then  Jimmy  made  the  stew  and  a  pot  of  tea  and  put  the 
apple  turn-over  to  keep  warm  in  the  Dutch  oven  and  we 
drew  the  blue  and  white  frill  in  front  of  the  gas  stove, 
shutting  out  the  only  ugly  thing  in  the  room,  and  put  a 
vase  with  a  bunch  of  Christmas  berries  on  our  table. 
Whilst  we  ate,  Jimmy  told  me  of  .his  work,  the  people  for 
whom  he  works  and  the  little  daily  things  that  go  to  make 
up  his  life. 

After  that  he  put  on  one  of  my  aprons  and  cleared 
away  whilst  I  rested  and  looked  into  the  coals,  and  by 
and  by,  when  everything  was  tidied  up,  he  opened  the 
window  for  a  few  minutes  to  let  the  sharp  cold  air  in  and 
freshen  us  up  a  bit,  then  drew  the  curtain  and  going  to 
the  piano,  played  for  me.  With  him  it  is  as  with  Mr. 
Vail.  Each  has  the  musical  gift,  but  just  misses  the 
something  that  makes  for  greatness.  But  I  love  to  hear 
them.  I  never  did  care  so  much  for  the  heights.  The  air 
is  too  rarified  there — I  am  an  earthworm,  so  I  find  the 
gifts  of  my  two  friends  very  comforting.  They  are  so 
generous  to  me. 

Jimmy  was  still  playing  that  lovely  Rubenstein  bit, 
when  I  heard  a  sound  just  outside  the  door  and  presently 
the  notes  of  a  violin,  and  Vail,  picking  up  the  melody, 
threaded  in  and  out  with  the  most  beautiful  soft  tones 
and  clear  staccato  notes.  Jimmy  looked  over  at  me 
with  a  raise  of  the  brows  and  I  nodded.  When  the  duo 
was  finished  Vail  opened  the  door  and  came  in  smiling,  I 
introduced  my  geniuses  and  they  took  to  each  other  im- 
mediately. 

254 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

Later,  as  we  talked  of  everything,— music,  books,  their 
makers,  old  world  cities,  and  new  world  social  conditions, 
—the  two  men  popped  corn  for  the  Christmas  mittens,  so 
the  evening  was  a  great  success. 

Christmas  day  I  paid  the  penalty  for  my  too  steady 
work  and  had  a  bad  bout  of  pain.  I  will  not  do  that 
again.  I  have  learned  my  limit  of  strength  and  as  I  do 
not  want  to  be  a  nuisance  I  won't  again  exceed.  Poor 
Nosey,  she  was  so  frightened. 

And  now  here  it  is  "  the  front  of  the  New  Year. ' ' 

I  have  been  reading  with  great  interest  the  reports  of 
the  Sunshine  Society.  I  think  I  will  join  and  ask  to  be 
put  into  communication  with  some  ' '  shut-in. ' '  Maybe  I 
can  hearten  up  someone.  Anyway  I  can  have  a  try  at 
it.  Queer  thing,  that,  how  one  has  to  grow  into  a  feel- 
ing of  universal  sympathy  through  personal  suffering. 
No  amount  of  vicarious  suffering  seems  to  do  it. 

JAN.  10TH,— I  wrote  to  the  secretary  of  the  "Sunshine 
Club"  telling  her  that  I  was  a  shut-in  and  would  like  it 
greatly  if  she  would  put  me  into  communication  with 
some  other  shut-in,  preferably  one  who  lived  in  the  coun- 
try, as  I  thought  I  might  give  her  some  new  interests  by 
telling  her  of  city  sights  and  doings  and  she  could  give 
me  some  whiffs  of  fresh,  sweet  country  air.  I  got  in  re- 
ply, almost  immediately,  an  address.  When  I  realized 
the  very  out-of-the-worldness  of  it,  I  felt  a  lump  in  my 
throat :  and  the  name  too,  was  an  appeal,— 
THIRLA  SVEXINGTON, 
Wakkinco  Cross  Roads, 

North  Dakota. 

Great  heaven !  to  be  shut-in,  in  that  land  of  long,  bit- 
ter-winters! I  had  passed  through  that  very  place  once 
on  my  way  to  visit  the  Baileys  at  their  ranch  home,  and 
I  remember  it  distinctly:  a  raw,  small  frontier  town,  no 
single  thing  of  beauty  in  it  and  much  of  ugliness.  So 
with  that  memory  freshly  resurrected  in  my  heart,  I 

255 


CHUMS 

wrote  telling  her  of  myself,  of  my  accident,  of  my  long 
ten  months  of  pain,  of  my  final  semi-recovery,  and  of  my 
firm  intention  of  taking  the  broken  thing  my  life  had  be- 
come, as  a  gift,  and  making  the  very  best  of  it  in  every 
way :  and  begged  her  to  tell  me  as  frankly  about  herself, 
that  we  might  get  all  that  was  to  be  got  from  this  new 
relationship. 

Goodness  knows  when  I  shall  hear  in  return.  She  may 
of  course  live  miles  away  from  the  Cross  Roads,  in  which 
case,  as  the  snow  often  reaches  many  feet  in  depth  and 
the  drifts  grow  mountain  high,  she  may  not  get  it  for 
weeks, — or  she  may  live  in  the  town,  and  then  I  shall 
hear  soon. 

I  have  added  another  acquaintance  to  my  list.  Last 
evening  I  was  sitting  in  the  window,  as  is  my  custom 
when  the  dusk  falls,  with  no  light  in  my  room  but  the 
firelight,  that  I  may  better  see  the  outer  world;  and 
watching  the  groups  of  workers  as  they  hurried  past,  I 
saw,  hippity-hopping  along  by  the  aid  of  a  crutch  stick, 
a  queer  little  figure,  and  I  thought  "there  goes  'Jennie 
Wren ' ;  she 's  probably  been  to  try  on  a  wedding-party. ' ' 
When  she  came  abreast  of  our  door-steps  she  stopped  a 
second,  then  started  up  the  steps  and  it  came  to  me  that 
it  must  be  the  "top  floor  front,"  the  girl  who  works  in 
the  feather  factory,  so  I  wheeled  about  and  over  to  my 
door,  which  I  opened.  As  she  entered  the  house  and 
started  the  long  climb,  I  said, — "Is  that  Miss  Thorn?" 
' '  Yes.  Who  is  it  ?  You,  Mrs.  Nosey  ? ' ' 

' '  No,  it  is  I,  Hilda  Martin. "  "  Oh ! '  '—And  I  knew  by 
the  tone  that  she  had  heard  of  me. 

"Won't  you  come  in  and  rest  a  moment,  Miss  Thorn, 
before  that  long  climb?"  I  struck  a  match  and  lighted 
the  drop  light. 

She  came  shyly  to  the  door-sill  and  then,  seeing  my  evi- 
dent desire  for  her  company  writ  large  upon  my  coun- 
tenance, she  came  in  and  I  closed  the  door  and  shook 
hands  with  her. 

256 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "8HUT-IX" 

"It's  a  clear  case  of  kidnapping,  is  it  not?"  I  asked. 
"I  saw  you,  I  wanted  to  know  you,  and  I  waylaid  you. 
Sit  down  in  that  low  chair  by  the  fire  and  get  rested,  and 
please  don't  think  me  crazy." 

She  laughed  a  nice,  sweet,  appreciative  laugh,  took  the 
chair,  and  we  became  very  well  acquainted. 

She  is  a  clever  little  thing,  not  at  all  unlike  "Jennie 
Wren ' '  and  I  told  her  so,  wondering  if  she  would  under- 
stand the  allusion.  She  went  off  into  peals  of  mirth,  and 
confided  to  me  that  she  had  years  ago  given  herself  that 
very  name,  and  only  wished  she  were  a  doll's  dress- 
maker instead  of  a  feather  worker.  She  is  a  well-read 
person,  and  before  I  knew  it  it  was  nearly  seven  o  'clock, 
so  I  made  her  stay  to  supper  and  we  had  great  fun.  My 
dish  was  stew,  which  had  been  doing  itself  nicely  all  af- 
ternoon in  the  niche  by  the  fire,  covered  tight  so  that  no 
particle  of  steam  could  escape;  she  contributed  crackers 
and  cheese  and  a  glass  of  jelly.  Because  of  the  occasion, 
I  made  another  pot  of  tea  although  I  rarely  indulge  in 
afternoon  tea  and  tea  for  supper. 

Afterwards  we  cleared  up  and  as  I  saw  her  eyeing  my 
books,  I  said,— "Love  them?"  She  nodded. 

I  struggled  manfully  with  myself  for  a  moment,  then 
I  said, — 

"You  are  welcome  to  borrow,  if  you  see  anything  you 
want?" 

"Thank  you  very  much,  Mrs.  Martin,  but  I  never  do 
borrow.  But  I  would  like  to  look  over  them.  I  always 
think  one's  books,  more  than  any  other  personal  posses- 
sion, show  the  individuality. ' ' 

"Yes,  do."  And  I  drew  a  long  breath.— Parenthetic- 
ally, I  hate  to  lend  my  books. 

She  has  had  a  very  unusual  sort  of  life:  A  foundling, 
left  in  the  cradle  at  the  door  of  St.  Savior's;  taken  at  the 
age  of  five  by  a  childless  couple  to  bring  up,  who  both 
died  before  she  was  ten  years  old,  and  whose  heirs  would 
not  keep  the  child :  back  to  St.  Savior's,  whence,  at  eleven, 

257 


CHUMS 

she  was  taken  by  a  German  woman  and  made  to  work 
like  a  small  dray  horse ;  then  at  fourteen  a  bad  fall  on 
ice-covered  stone  stairs,  long  months  in  the  hospital,  and 
the  edict,  lame  for  life;  then  four  years  of  great  happi- 
ness, living  with  a  dear  woman  who  was  everything  that 
was  motherly  and  tender  to  her,  who  taught  her  her 
trade ;  at  twenty  alone  again,  by  the  death  of  the  woman ; 
and  then  eight  years  of  earning  her  living,  her  only  joy 
her  books  and  the  few  hours  at  home  in  her  small  room. 

I  said, — "How  did  you  become  so  well  educated?" 

"Am  I?  I  feel  wofully  ignorant,  but  I  have  always 
read,  every  moment  I  could  get  to  myself,  and  when  it 
was  possible  I  Ve  gone  to  lectures  at  the  Institute,  and  I 
suppose  that  has  helped." 

Altogether  it  was  a  most  satisfactory  evening  and  I 
asked  her  to  come  down  Wednesday  evening  to  hear 
Jimmy  and  Mr.  Vail  play. 

Mary  Tobin  came  in,— or  rather  blew  in,  for  it  was 
a  day — and  stayed  to  tea  on  Friday,  giving  me  an  ac- 
count of  a  new  family  that  she  has  come  across,  Hunga- 
rians, all  musicians,  father,  mother,  two  boys  and  a  girl, 
well  born,  well  educated,  and  now  here  in  a  strange 
country,  the  father  sick  unto  death,  the  mother  about  to 
have  another  child,  and  no  money  but  what  the  two  lit- 
tle boys  twelve  and  ten  can  earn  playing  on  the  streets. 

Mary  says  that  the  Duchess  really  discovered  the  fam- 
ily. She  was  coming  home  one  late  afternoon  and 
thought  she  would  just  step  in  and  see  Martha  Holding, 
when  at  the  corner  she  saw  two  little  lads  playing  on  vio- 
lins, and  a  little  girl  standing  next  them,  crying.  No 
one  paid  any  attention  to  the  pathetic  little  group,  and 
it  was  bitter  cold,  with  a  strong  wind  blowing.  The. 
Duchess  went  over  to  them  and  asked  what  was  the  mat- 
ter and  in  stammering  English  they  told  her.  First  bid- 
ding them  wait  a  moment  she  went  into  Martha's  and 
got  a  few  dollars  as  she  had  but  a  dime  with  her;  then 


258 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

she  went  with  them  to  the  room  they  called  home.  There 
she  found  the  sick  father  and  the  poor  distressed  mother 
and,  after  promising  help,  she  went  to  the  nearest  tele- 
phone station,  called  up  the  settlement  doctor  on  duty, 
told  him  about  the  case,  ordered  necessities  and  hurried 
back.  Presently  the  doctor  came,  there  was  a  fire  going, 
—fancy !  there  had  been  none  before,  and  in  this  weath- 
er!—and  she  got  a  good,  hot,  strengthening  meal,  and 
stuffed  the  children  to  the  bursting  point. 

After  our  little  Duchess  had  done  all  that  she  could, 
the  settlement  folk  took  the  case  and  now  Mary  Tobin  is 
guardian  angel.  They  are  a  very  interesting  family,  she 
says. 

Another  ease  that  Mary  is  interested  in  is  a  queer  one. 
A  man  named  Tim  Burk,  generally  called  Bully  Burk, 
has  been  sent  up  for  ten  years  to  the  Island,  and  he  has 
left  in  Mary 's  charge  his  wife  and  baby.  The  wife  never 
knew,  until  Bully  Burk  was  caught  red-handed  in  the 
Troy  bank  robbery,  that  he  was  not  what  he  had  told  her, 
a  travelling  man  for  a  Pittsburg  firm,  and  she  won't  be- 
lieve it  yet,  although  he  has  been  sentenced,  convicted 
and  sent  to  the  Island.  She  clings  to  Mary  like  grim 
death.  She  was  a  country  school  teacher  before  Burk 
saw  and  fell  in  love  with  her,  a  pretty,  gentle  little 
woman,  Mary  says,  very  unsophisticated  and  simple,  an'! 
it  seems  that  Burk  has  been  everything  that  was  lovely 
to  her.  He  told  Mary  with  the  tears  running  down  his 
face  that  he  had  firmly  intended  to  quit  his  ways  and  go 
into  the  country  and  buy  a  farm,— after  the  Troy  bank 
affair.  He  has  always  wanted  to  be  a  farmer  and  he  had 
picked  out  the  place  and  paid  all  but  the  last  installment 
on  it.  Mary  said  that  Dr.  Holding  decided  that  he 
would  pay  that  last  installment  and  send  the  wife  and 
baby  there  to  live,  and  until  Burk's  time  is  up  he,  the 
Doctor,  will  look  out  for  them.  When  Burk  heard  that 
he  went  all  to  pieces.  What  an  interesting  world  it  is ! 


259 


CHUMS 

JAN.  28TH, — I  had  an  answer  to  my  letter  from  Thirla 
Svenington,  and  I  think  I  will  copy  it  and  all  the  fol- 
lowing ones  as  they  come,  into  my  diary,  for  I  do  not 
want  to  lose  the  sequence. 

"JAN.  — .    CROSS  ROADS. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  MARTIN, 

Your  letter  came  on  the  heels  of  the  most  terrific  snow 
storm  that  we  have  ever  had,  but  owing  to  the  fact  that 
I  am  living  only  on  the  outskirts  of  Wakkinco,  I  received 
it  but  four  days  after  its  arrival. 

I  live  with  my  married  sister  and  her  family,  and  they 
are  everything  that  is  kind  and  good  to  me,  but  my  sister 
is  a  busy,  hardworking,  practical  woman  whose  life  is 
very  full  of  the  cares  of  a  growing  family,  and  often 
there  come  hours  when  I  get  restless. 

I  saw  in  the  Ladies'  Home  the  Sunshine  reports  and 
one  day  the  thought  came  to  me  that  maybe  there  was 
another  "shut-in"  who  had  occasional  attacks  of  rest- 
lessness and  wanted  someone  outside  of  the  restricted  cir- 
cle to  talk  with. 

You  ask  me  to  tell  you  all  about  myself,  that  we  may 
know  just  where  we  stand,  and  so  get  the  most  from  this 
new  relationship.  So  here  is  the  story:— 

I  am  thirty-eight.  Was  thrown  from  my  horse  eight 
years  ago  and  injured  my  spine  so  that  I  cannot  sit  up 
quite  straight.  Am  quite  paralyzed  below  the  waist,  but 
I  suffer  no  pain  now,  and  the  doctors  say  that  I  may  live 
for  many,  many  years. 

I  have  a  very  small  income,  twenty -five  a  month,  which 
I  give  to  my  sister  for  my  board,  and  I  wish  greatly  it 
were  more.  I  knit  bushels  of  mittens  and  carloads  of 
mufflers  and  wristlets,  and  so  make  a  trifle  extra,  which 
buys  subscriptions  to  half-a-dozen  magazines  and  week- 
lies. 

I  have  a  corner  room,  one  window  of  which  looks  out 
on  a  great  expanse  of  hill  and  dale,  and  another  on  the 
County  Road.  I  generally  sit  by  the  Road  window,  find- 

260 


THE  DIARY  OF  A    "$HUT-L\" 

ing  the  occasional  glimpses  of  passing  neighbors  more  in- 
teresting, although  I  love  the  other  view. 

Before  my  accident  I  was  the  telegraph  operator  at 
Wakkinco  Junction,  and  I  rode  to  my  post  each  morning 
at  eight  and  returned  at  six,  being  relieved  at  that  time 
by  the  night  operator,  who  lived  at  the  Junction. 

I  was  brought  up  on  a  cattle  ranch,  my  father's,  and 
when  I  reached  fourteen  years  old  I  was  sent  East  to  an 
aunt's  in  Boston  to  remain  four  years,  during  which  time 
I  went  to  school,  finishing  the  high  school  and  normal 
course. 

Then  came  news  of  my  father's  death  and  of  the  fact 
that  my  sister  and  myself  were  left  nearly  penniless,  the 
great  range  having  been  lost  by  our  father  through  some 
wild  speculation. 

Teach  school  I  would  not,  and  go  into  a  shop  I  thought 
I  could  not.  My  whole  heart  was  crying  aloud  for  the 
land  of  my  birth  and  free  childhood.  I  had  no  desire 
to  remain  in  a  city.  My  aunt  offered  to  keep  me,  but  I 
wanted  to  be  independent  so  I  decided  to  learn  telegra- 
phy and  try  for  some  post  near  my  old  home.  All  of 
which  I  did,  and  when  my  accident  occurred  I  had  been 
for  ten  years  in  the  work,  less  four  vacations  of  four  and 
six  months  respectively,  which  I  spent  in  Europe. 

My  sister  married  just  after  our  father's  death  and 
has  stayed  here  for  all  these  years.  Her  husband  is  a 
cattle  man  who  was  not  successful  for  himself,  and  now 
is  the  manager  for  a  great  ranch. 

We  all  live  in  a  big,  rambling,  gray-shingled  house, 
here  where  the  wilds  just  touch  with  civilization.  I  have, 
as  I  said,  a  corner  room  on  the  first  floor,  and  next  it  a 
bath-room,  and  a  small  veranda  entirely  to  myself. 

My  sister  has  eight  children  and  I  love  them,  every 
one. 

Our  place  is  a  sort  of  semi-demi-farm,  that  is,  we 
grow  our  own  garden  stuff.  We  have  chickens,  ducks, 
creese,  turkeys  and  two  cows.  Have  one  indoor  servant, 

261 


CHUMS 

an  Indian  woman,  Winnie,  who  has  been  with  us  for 
many  years,  and  a  Swede  for  outside,  who  looks  after 
the  cattle  and  the  little  farming  we  do. 

The  place  belongs  to  my  sister  and  me,  left  to  us  by  an 
old  cousin,  or  rather  a  second  cousin,  of  our  father's,  a 
Dane.  From  my  name  you  had  guessed  me  that,  I  know. 

And  now  will  that  do  as  to  description  ?  And  do  you 
feel  that  you  know  me  ? 

Your  letter  to  me  was  a  perfect  godsend.  Through  it 
I  felt  once  more  in  touch  with  the  world,  the  real  live, 
active  world.  And  oh !  do  tell  me  more  of  Mary  Tobin 
and  Martha  Holding  and  Jimmy  Wise  and  all  of  them. 

When  I  was  well  and  strong  I  could  not  bear  the  con- 
finement of  life  in  a  city,  I  felt  the  need  of  the  great 
stretches  of  open  all  about  me,  but  now — well,  I  some- 
way get  at  times  a  feeling  that  I  wish  my  window  looked 
out  on  a  busier  scene.  I  am  grown  gregarious,  I  want 
people,  at  any  rate  to  watch.  I  thought  of  you  at  your 
window  as  'the  dusk  falls  and  the  lights  spring  up  in 
shop  and  stall,  and  the  people  go  hurrying  past' — with 
a  wee  bit  of  envy,  especially  as  just  after  your  letter  was 
received  we  were  fairly  shut  off  from  the  world  by  the 
drifts  and  I  found  myself  in  spirit  with  you. 

Have  you  a  photograph  of  yourself,  and  if  so  may  I 
have  it,  even  though  but  for  a  little  visit?  I  try  to  pic- 
ture you  to  myself  and  of  course  I  have  already  formed 
a  picture  of  you  in  my  mind.  One  time,  many  years 
ago,  I  was  at  the  station  when  the  train  came  in  and  a 
young  woman  of  about  my  own  age  got  off.  I  remember 
yet  how  I  stared  at  her.  Why,  I  do  not  know,  except 
that  she  was  very  good  to  look  at  and  I  had  not  seen 
anyone  except  the  people  of  the  village  for  long.  She 
was  rather  tall  with  a  nice,  bright,  frank  face,  lovely 
gray  eyes,  heaps  of  black  hair,  and  two  dimples,  deep 
ones  in  her  cheeks.  Well,  someway,  when  your  letter 
came,  there  came  to  me  that  memory  from  out  of  the 
years  and  so  now  in  my  mental  picture  of  you  I  see  that 

262 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IX" 

nice  girl,  grown  more  mature,  but  still  the  same.    Silly, 
is  it  not,  but  we  do  get  fanciful. 

I  shall  bribe  my  pet  nephew  to  take  this  in  to  the  post. 
It's  a  big  task  to  go  that  far  just  now,  but  I  have  a  lit- 
tle feeling  of  wanting  you  to  get  my  answer  soon,  so  that 
I  may  receive  its  answer,  I  suppose. 

Yours  in  all  gratitude, 

THIRLA." 

Now  that  is  the  letter  of  a  fine  soul  who  is  bearing  her 
cross  cheerfully.  I  read  it  to  Jimmy,  Mr.  Vail  and  Jen- 
nie Wren  when  they  came  on  Wednesday  and  they  were 
all  much  interested.  I  will  write  again  soon.  Evidently 
she  is  pretty  lonely,  poor  dear. 

FEB.  OTH,— Mary  brought  Mrs.  Burk  and  her  baby  to 
see  me  yesterday.  I  think  Mary  is  trying  to  show  her 
that  she  is  not  the  only  one  in  life  who  has  a  trouble,  al- 
though, poor  little  woman,  she  quite  evidently  thinks 
there  never  was  so  terrible  a  one  as  hers,  and  that  a  little 
matter  such  as  being  a  bed-ridden  person  is  nothing. 
The  baby -is  a  duck  of  a  baby  and  made  up  to  me  so 
that  I  felt  that  if  I  did  not  have  one  of  my  very  own  I 
should  be  a  much  abused  person.  As  that  cannot  be,  I 
just  had  to  work  off  my  mother  yearns  on  Midge,  who  re- 
ceived them  with  exceeding  coldness  and  showed  me  just 
how  jealous  and  abused  she  felt. 

The  Duchess  came  in  at  tea-time  and  brought  me  an 
interesting  account  of  the  Hungarian  family.  The  fa- 
ther has  been  moved  to  the  hospital  where  he  lies  very, 
very  ill.  The  mother  has  been  helped  with  necessities 
and  will  be  looked  after  by  the  settlement  folk  through 
her  trial,  and  the  two  boys  are  in  the  office  of  that  nice 
Mr.  Wellmans  as  messenger  boys.  The  small  girl  will 
remain  with  her  mother.  The  three  children  will  go  to 
the  settlement  night  classes  and  the  boys  are  to  keep  up 
their  music  at  the  Sunday  classes. 

263 


CHUMS 

I  asked  Martha  Holding  one  day  if  they  never  got  dis- 
couraged with  all  the  mountains  of  woe  and  the  seas  of 
ingratitude  and  thrif tlessness ;  but  she  declares  that  in- 
gratitude is  rare,  that  she  has  seen  and  constantly  does 
see  the  most  beautiful  qualities  of  soul  and  heart,  and 
that  the  thriftlessness  is  often  due  to  ignorance.  Her 
great  faith  rests  in  the  children.  She  says  that  she  can 
see  the  most  satisfactory  results  even  now.  The  girls 
who  have  had  the  settlement  class  training  are  marrying 
and  establishing  little  homes  and  always  it  is  one  step  up, 
in  some  cases  many  steps;  and  of  course  their  children 
will  be  even  more  advanced  in  the  standard  of  comfort 
and  decency  of  living. 

I  do  not  think  Mary  Tobin  is  so  optimistic ;  I  suppose 
temperament  has  much  to  do  with  it. 

Martha  is  so  happy  in  her  husband  and  babies  that  it 
lends  a  rosy  tinge  to  everything. 

MARCH  I()TH,— Almost  a  month  since  I  wrote  in  my 
diary.  Had  a  bad  ten  days,  but  am  better  now.  Then  I 
found  so  much  to  do  getting  things  into  shape  again  that 
I  have  been  busy  every  minute. 

Mary  Tobin  came  in  one  day  when  the  pain  was  pretty 
bad  and  I  was  just  holding  on  to  myself  with  teeth  and 
toe-nails  to  keep  from  getting  desperate,  and  told  me  to 
"let  go,"  not  to  try  to  bear  it  and  to  be  quiet,  but  to 
groan  and  cry  if  it  would  be  any  relief.  I  did,  and  it 
was.  Memo— No  more  trying  to  be  stoical,  it  evidently 
does  have  a  bad  effect.  Mary  does  not  believe  in  "bot- 
tling up."  Poor  Nosey,  though,  thought  I  was  going  to 
die  just  the  minute  I  began  to  make  a  racket,  and  was 
most  weepy  and  miserable.  She  feels  better  now,  as  I 
am  once  again  quiet.  I  presented  her  with  a  Maltese 
lace  collar,  in  token  of  my  sincere  repentance  for  the 
scare.  And  I  think  that  she  wore  it  last  night,  over  her 
very  best  gown,  and  went  to  call  on  the  landlady  next 
door,  who  also  is  a  Welch  woman. 

264 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

Poor  Midge  wailed  when  I  did,  a  thin,  sharp  little  cry 
that  made  me  jump  every  time  I  heard  it ;  she  could  not 
be  induced  to  leave  me  five  minutes.  Now  both  invalids 
are  feeling  better  and  both  are  a  trifle  dressed  up  this 
afternoon.  I  found  a  lot  of  pretties  that  I  had  put  away 
in  the  deep  drawer  of  the  chiffonier  and  forgotten :  one 
was  a  gold  bangle  with  a  slide,  so  I  put  it  on  Midge  and 
tied  a  great  bow  of  crimson  ribbon  to  it,  and  she  is  now 
posing  before  the  looking  glass  on  my  dressing  table,  as 
happy  and  vainglorious  as  any  other  soft,  feminine  thing 
under  like  circumstances. 

I  am  bedecked  in  a  kimona  of  scarlet  crepe,  altogether 
silly  and  out  of  keeping  with  my  fortunes  and  abode, 
but  the  day  is  a  cold,  sleety  one  and  I  craved  the  splatch 
of  vivid  color,  so  I  got  it  out  and  put  it  on.  I  admit 
taking  a  surreptitious  peep  or  so  at  myself  and  feeling  a 
gentle  glow  of  pleasure  steal  over  me  to  find  that  the 
face  confronting  me  was  not  so  awful  and  haggard  as  I 
feared— rather  'circly'  as  to  eyes  and  they  of  a  bigness! 
but  on  the  whole,  not  dreadful. 

I  only  just  ten  minutes  ago  lighted  my  drop  light,  for 
I  stretch  to  the  last  second  my  twilight  hour.  They  have, 
too,  recently  put  a  new  and  most  dazzling  light  on  the 
corner,  so  that  my  room  is  made  bright  almost  to  the 
reading  point,  not  quite,  however.  And  my  eyes  being 
the  precious  things  they  are  to  me  I  take  few  chances 
with  them. 

I  wrote  to  "Thirla"  and  but  this  morning  got  a  reply, 
which  I  will  copy  here. 

"MARCH  IST,  CROSS  ROADS. 

MY  DEAR  GOOD  SAMARITAN,— 

Your  letter  came  just  at  the  psychological  moment  and 
saved  me  from  desperation.  There  had  been  a  series  of 
the  small,  nerve-racking  domestic  woes,  and  a  series  of 
great  elemental  outbreaks.  The  combination  reduced 

265 


CHUMS 

my  good  and  capable  sister  to  a  mere  rag,  and  finally  she 
took  to  her  bed. 

Then  my  pet  nephew  got  lost  in  the  drifts  on  his  way 
home  from  the  store  and  after  several  hours  was  discov- 
ered nearly  frozen ;  result,  a  second  bed  in  his  mother 's 
room,  where  the  two  invalids  hold  court. 

Such  fierce  storms  I  never  remember  to  have  experi- 
enced. Furious  wind  and  snow-drifts  mountains  high. 
With  every  crack  and  cranny  stuffed  and  weather-proof- 
edged,  every  fireplace  and  stove  stuffed  to  the  danger 
point,  we  still  cannot  get  or  keep  warm. 

Let  me  tell  you,  for  instance,  what  I  have  on :  double 
underclothes,  a  warm,  wadded  gown,  a  warmer,  wadded- 
er  one  over  that,  a  hot  soapstone  at  my  feet  and  two  stone 
bottles  filled  with  boiling  water  at  each  side  of  me,  not 
to  mention  the  pair  of  half -mittens  on  my  hands,— and 
in  the  house !  I,  who  love  the  open,  the  air,  and  all  that 
both  mean,  beyond  words.  Surely,  'it  is  to  laugh!' 
And  as  laughing  is  far  wiser  under  most  circumstances 
in  life,  I  do  as  much  of  it  as  possible. 

Last  night  I  could  not  sleep,  the  wind  wailed  so,  and 
the  old  trees  that  stand  at  the  side  nearest  my  room 
whipped  about  at  such  a  rate  that  I  certainly  thought 
there  would  be  neither  a  branch  on  the  trees  nor  a  clap- 
board on  the  house.  Finally  my  nerves  got  the  better 
of  me  and  I  called  to  Winnie,  who  sleeps  in  a  room  just 
off  mine,  and  she  came  and  made  up  my  fire  and  got  the 
kettle  to  boiling,  so  I  could  have  a  hot  drink;  and, 
wrapped  up  in  a  huge  bed  gown  of  wonderful  cut  and 
material,  squatted  down  on  the  hearthrug  and  talked  to 
me  until  I  felt  quiet  again. 

Her  family  belonged  to  a  tribe  famous  for  its  hunters 
and  trappers,  and  her  tales  of  the  winter  camps  away  up 
north  in  Canada  make  a  little  thing  like  a  Dakota  bliz- 
zard seem  a  breath  from  the  tropics.  She  is  full  of  old 
legends  and  tales,  of  superstitions  and  weird  stories 
handed  down  for  generations.  All  of  which  I  get  as 

266 


THE  DIARY  OF  A    "SHUT-IN" 

fascinated  in  as  though  I  were  once  again  a  child  listen- 
ing in  big-eyed  wonder. 

You  asked  in  your  letter  that  I  give  you  a  sample  day 
of  my  life.  I  will  make  it  an  ordinary  one,  because  in 
times  of  blizzards  such  as  this  we  are  all  out  of  normal. 
Say  a  date  in  late  September. 

I  sleep  out  on  my  veranda,  so  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  trying  to  sleep  after  the  sun  is  up,  for  we  face 
east.  About  six  I  am  loaned  Winnie  for  an  hour,  who 
bathes  me  and  does  my  hair  and  slips  me  into  my  day 
togs.  Then  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  I  do  not  bother 
anyone.  I  wheel  myself  out  to  the  dining-room  where, 
by  that  time,  the  youngsters  are  assembled  and  presently 
my  sister,  assisted  by  the  oldest  ones,  brings  in  the  break- 
fast—a very  bountiful  one,  as  these  growing,  active 
young  creatures  seem  to  need  quantities  of  nourishment. 

My  breakfast  consists  of  tea  and  toast,  coffee  on  Sun- 
days. I've  an  individual  service  which  I  love,  and  the 
tray  containing  it  is  put  on  the  table  of  my  wheel-chair. 
The  children  saved  up  and  gave  it  to  me  a  year  ago. 

We  are  a  very  noisy  lot  and  what  is  called  a  'good 
morning  crowd, '  everyone  being  jolly  and  full  of  spirits, 
none  of  that  irritability  that  some  poor  mortals  seem  to 
waken  with.  Finally  when  mounds  of  ham  and  eggs, 
mountains  of  hot  cakes  and  quarts  of  milk  have  disap- 
peared, the  youngsters  disperse,  some  to  school,  some  to 
their  various  duties  in  farm  and  stable,  and  some  to  help 
their  mother. 

I  wheel  back  to  my  room  and  read  for  an  hour  or  two, 
usually  German  and  French,  as  I  do  not  want  to  get 
rusty.  Then  I  write  letters.  That  brings  it  to  eleven, 
at  which  time  my  sister  usually  joins  me  on  my  veranda 
and  we  do  an  hour's  mending  and  darning.  At  twelve 
sharp  the  gong  rings  for  luncheon,  and  again  we  flock, 
this  time  to  a  very  substantial  meal. 

After,  I  knit  until  three  at  my  various  mufflers,  wrist- 
lets, mittens  and  golf  stockings.  I  am  so  adept  at  it  now 

267 


CHUMS 

that  I  can  prop  a  book  up  and  get  on  with  both  knitting 
and  story,  and  I  really  knit  incredibly  fast.  From  three 
to  four  I  do  any  little  sewing  that  is  needed. 

At  four,  my  sister  in  a  fresh  print  dress,  her  splendid 
hair  newly  done,  arrives  with  our  tea-tray  and  we  just  al- 
low ourselves  a  while  of  chat  and  laziness.  Occasionally 
one  or  both  of  the  older  girls  join  us,  but  usually  we  have 
the  time  to  ourselves,  and  it  is  then  that  we  two  get  at 
the  real  'thee  and  me.'  We  are  most  excellent  friends. 

When  the  clock  strikes  five  we  look  guilty  and  sister, 
taking  up  the  tea-tray,  starts  kitchenward.  At  six  there 
is  a  mighty  supper  to  be  ready. 

The  hour  between  five  and  six  I  spend  dipping  into  old 
favorites.  I  have  a  small  case  out  on  the  veranda  where 
I  keep  a  couple  of  hundred  books.  My  veranda  is  a  nice 
place,  I  think  you  would  approve  of  it.  It  is  flush  with 
my  room  so  that  I  can  wheel  myself  about  from  one  to 
the  other.  In  one  corner  is  my  bed — a  very  nice  and 
'frilly  and  cushiony'  couch  by  day.  Fetching  rugs  on 
the  floor,  rag  ones,  in  tan  and  green.  I  made  them  my- 
self. There  is  an  old  oak  chest  of  drawers,  with  nice 
hammered  brass  corners  and  hinges,  where  I  keep  my 
work.  There  is  the  aforementioned  case  of  books,  and  a 
table,  big  green  tubs  of  oleander,  one  of  white  and  one 
of  red  blossoms,  a  long  box  on  the  shady  side  filled  with 
ferns,  and  hanging  baskets  of  nice  loopy,  full-leaved 
greenery.  I've  a  green  Venetian  to  let  down  for  the  hot 
days.  From  June  to  October  I  literally  live  on  my 
veranda. 

I  see  I  have  quite  got  away  from  my  'sample  day.' 

After  the  supper  everyone  sits  out  under  the  trees  and 
on  the  big  veranda  steps  for  an  hour  or  so,  then  we  say 
good-night  and  disperse.  I  generally  read  until  ten  at 
which  time  Winnie  comes  to  put  me  by-by,  or  she  may 
do  that  earlier  and  I  lie  and  read  until  I  get  sleepy. 

That  is  a  very  fair  sample.  Of  course  things  are  once 
in  a  while  a  trifle  changed.  For  instance  we  may  get  one 

268 


TEE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

of  the  itinerant  preachers  for  a  few  days,  or  some  one  of 
the  other  ranchers  drops  in  for  a  night,  having  ridden 
sixty  miles.  We  rarely  see  anyone  fresh  from  the  real 
outer  world,  so  perhaps  you  can  have  some  faint  concep- 
tion of  what  your  letters  are  meaning  to  me. 

To  think  that  you  were  the  girl  of  years  ago  whom  I 
saw  and  straight-away  lost  my  heart  to,  and  now  after  all 
these  years  we  find  each  other !  We  who  have  dwelt  with 
pain  and  supped  with  sorrow ;  strange  world ! 

I  am  sending  by  this  mail  a  trifle  of  my  handiwork. 
I  got  it  into  my  mind  that  you  loved  the  rich  tones,  so 
I  have  made  it  crimson  with  a  touch  of  gold. 

I  may  have  to  wait  a  day  before  I  can  get  it  and  this 
letter  to  the  post,  for  it  is  still  snowing  and  blowing 
furiously. 

THIRLA." 

Last  evening  I  was  sitting  at  my  window  in  the  dusk, 
watching  the  hurrying  throngs.  Many  of  the  people  I 
am  now  quite  familiar  with.  There  is  a  nice,  clever- 
faced,  youngish  woman,  who,  I  think,  is  in  the  "gold- 
trimmings"  place,  who  always  gives  me  a  smile  in  return 
for  mine.  I  forget  which  of  us  started  the  smiling.  She 
is  pretty  shabby,  but  her  clothes  have  a  certain  cut  and 
air,  either  handed  down  by  rich  relatives  or  friends — but 
no,  a  woman  with  those  features  would  not  wear  anyone's 
old  clothes.  She  would  far  rather  wear  poorer  ones  that 
she  had  earned.  Well  then,  the  only  other  hypothesis  is, 
she  once  in  so  often  indulges  in  a  first-class  tailor  suit 
and  wears  it  forever  and  a  day. 

The  other  day,  when  it  was  so  bitter  cold,  she  had  on 
a  short  box  coat  of  thick  cloth  and  thick,  knitted  mittens, 
a  short  dark  blue  skirt  and  overshoes,  and  a  plain  blue 
felt  hat  with  nothing  but  a  quill  for  its  trimming ;  what 
a  contrast  she  formed  to  the  crowd  of  women  and  girls  all 
about  her !  They  wore  such  pitifully  inadequate  clothing, 
thin,  flimsy  little  jackets,  broken-down,  high-heeled 

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shoes,  dresses  that  gathered  up  the  slush  of  the  streets, 
and  big  be-feathered  hats.  Some  of  them  are  pretty, 
too,  these  working  girls,  in  that  white  eomplexioned, 
finely  featured  style.  One  girl  in  particular  has  attract- 
ed my  eyes.  She  is  the  exaggerated  type  and  affects  the 
most  ultra  mode.  It  would  be  pathetic  if  it  were  not  so 
funny.  She  is  just  now  balancing  on  a  pair  of  stilt-like 
heels  and  her  pretty  face  is  nearly  half  obscured  by  the 
very  largest  and  bushiest  of  pompadours  and  side  puffs, 
and  a  huge  hat  in  crimson  beaver  with  two  plumes  and  a 
gilt  buckle  large  enough  for  a  breast-plate  crown  the 
towering  hair.  A  thin  little  black  jacket  and  skirt,  cut  in 
the  very  up-to-the-last-minute  mode,  complete  the  en- 
semble, and  in  spite  of  all  of  it  the  girl  is  a  picture.  She, 
too,  looks  at  my  window  and  just  tips  a  little  smile  from 
the  corner  of  her  lovely  lips,  pretty  thing ! 

There  is  a  very  nice  looking,  middle  aged  man,  I  fancy 
a  bookkeeper,  looks  seedily  clerical, — I  think  he  is  a 
dreamer  and  lives  more  in  Spain  than  here, — who  passes 
at  irregular  hours. 

There  is  a  couple,  man  and  woman,  who  always  go 
arm-in-arm  in  a  most  contented  and  domestic  fashion.  I 
should  like  to  know  their  little  romance.  They,  too,  are 
shabby,  but  they  are  warmly  and  comfortably  dressed. 
Such  nice,  plain  faces,  the  woman  very  nice  looking,  in 
fact,  just  escaping  prettiness.  They  often  stop  to  buy 
five  or  ten  cents'  worth  of  roast  chestnuts  from  the  Ital- 
ian opposite,  and  once  in  a  while  a  couple  of  big,  mealy, 
piping  hot  sweet  potatoes.  The  hot  sweet  potato  man 
does  a  fine,  brisk  trade  at  evening  these  cold  nights  and 
so  does  the  hot  Hamburg  steak  man. 

I  saw  my  nice  looking,  middle  aged  bookkeeper  come 
along  the  other  evening,  a  trifle  after  the  rush  was  gone, 
and,  after  looking  quickly  about  to  see  if  he  was  unob- 
served, buy  two  hot  potatoes,  and  putting  one  in  each 
overcoat  pocket  walk  on  briskly.  That  rather  surprised 
me,  for  if  he  is  married  he  must  have  a  chance  to  have 

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his  potatoes  at  home.  Maybe  he  is  a  bachelor,  poor  fel- 
low, and  does  his  small  housekeeping  for  himself.  Many 
men  do. 

My  Jennie  Wren  girl  is  such  a  joy  to  me.  What  a 
discovery  that  was!  We  are  most  congenial,  and  have 
such  nice  booky,  talky  times.  I  think  Jimmy  looks  a  bit 
disappointed  if  she  does  not  come  in  whilst  he  is  here — 
I  wonder ! 

MARCH  27TH,— I  have  decided  to  do  something  to  earn 
a  trifle  of  money.  These  once  clever  fingers  are  not  liv- 
ing up  to  their  highest,  so  after  long  thinking  about  it 
I  decided  for  decorating  boxes— all  kinds,  painted,  poker 
work,  braided  silk  ribbon,  boxes  made  of  ruching;  in 
fact,  as  many  kinds  and  for  as  many  purposes  as  fair 
women  have  desires.  I  made  four  for  samples:  one  of 
pale  mauve  ruching,  lined  with  Dresden  silk,  a  silk  loop 
and  an  amethyst  button  for  a  catch.  One  of  braided 
satin  ribbon  in  three  shades  of  old  rose,  with  a  pink  silk 
braided  frog  and  a  coral  for  fasteners.  I  did  a  cedar 
wood  box  with  an  arabesque  in  poker  work,  washed  in 
in  colors,  strapped  it  with  a  strip  of  leather  in  pinky  tan 
and  buckled  it  with  a  bronze  buckle.  I  made  for  the  last 
a  tan  wrapping-paper  one,  tied  with  autumn  leaf  shades, 
and  washed  in  a  bit  of  landscape  on  the  cover.  I  sent 
them,  done  up  in  a  white  tissue  paper,  to  the  Woman's 
Exchange,  along  with  the  card  Mary  Tobin  had  procured 
for  me. 

The  work  on  them  had  taken  me  the  better  part  of 
three  days.  The  materials  cost  me,  wholesale,  $3.25. 
My  outfits  of  pyrography  and  colors  I  had.  I  put  mod- 
erate prices  on  them  as  I  need  not  count  my  time.  So 
now  we  shall  see  how  they  will  do.  When  I  sent  around 
to  the  old  firms  for  the  ruchings  and  ribbon,  I  mentioned 
in  my  note  to  Mr.  Wellman  that  I  intended  making  some 
"attractive  un-necessities "  for  sale,  by  way  of  earning 
a  trifle.  He  sent  me  the  nicest  note  in  reply,  and  gave 

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CHUMS 

me  the  lowest  prices,  of  course.  I  fancy  he  would  great- 
ly have  liked  to  say,  "Oh,  you  may  have  all  that  you 
want."  (When  a  man  has  once  offered  a  woman  all  of 
his  personal  possessions  and  himself,  he  does  not  stick  at 
a  small  thing  like  ruehings  and  ribbons.)  Of  course  he 
dared  not,  but  he  did  ask  in  his  note  if  he  might  come 
to  see  me,  and  now  that  there  is  no  probability  of  his 
being  anxious  to  marry  me  we  can,  I  think,  be  good 
friends.  I  always  did  like  him  that  way,  and  I've  none 
too  many  friends  now. 

Mary  Tobin  came  in  yesterday.  The  Hungarian  gen- 
tleman died  and  the  poor  wife  gave  premature  birth  to 
a  girl  baby  and  is  very  ill.  Dr.  Holding  and  Martha 
have  taken  the  case  and  the  settlement  workers  have 
agreed  to  look  after  the  three  other  children. 

I  have  made  acquaintance  with  the  eccentric  and  chol- 
eric old  gentleman  the  children  call  "Santa  Glaus,"  and 
he  is  delightful.  The  manners  of  a  Lord  Chesterfield 
when  he  is  in  the  humor,  and  the  vocabulary  of  a  trooper 
when  he  is  angry.  I  just  have  to  have  my  door  open 
awhile  every  morning,  before  Midge  will  settle  down  for 
the  day.  She  must  go  up  to  call  on  Mr.  Vail  and  I  am 
so  fearful  lest  she  find  the  front  door  open  and  slip  out 
that  until  she  has  come  back  for  good  I  keep  my  door 
open.  So  the  old  Colonel, — Pepper  by  name  (and  by  na- 
ture I  should  judge)— looked  in  as  he  was  going  past, 
and  took  off  his  cap,  one  of  those  dark,  large  crowned, 
black  visored  ones,  and  "hoped  I  was  standing  the  cold 
weather  well."  I  thanked  him  for  his  interest  and  en- 
vied him  his  ability  to  Lro  for  tramps,  which  it  seems  he 
loves,  and  so  our  acquaintance  was  properly  begun.  To- 
day he  knocked  at  my  door  just  at  tea-time,  bringing  me 
a  perfect  armful  of  winter  greenery %  gathered,  he  said, 
over  in  Jersey.  I  asked  him  to  tea  and  we  had  a  very 
pleasant  chat. 

He  has  been  abroad  and  loves  the  old  world.  Is  a  tre- 
mendous reader,  a  great  talker  and  talks  well.  He  made 

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no  confidence  about  his  personal  history,  so  I've  no  idea 
what  it  is,  but  he  is  very  unusual  and  charming,  clean 
and  well  groomed  looking,  evidently  poor,— for  else  he 
would  not  live  in  this  quarter,— and  cooks  his  own  meals 
when  he  is  at  home,  but  is  away  often  for  days. 

I  am  filled  with  interest  and  amusement, — Nosey  has 
a  beau!  and  it  is  great  larks  watching  her.  He  is  the 
proprietor  of  the  very  flourishing  corner  grocery  two 
blocks  off,  a  widower  with  two  children.  German  and 
blond,  kindly  and  sentimental,  and  comes  laden  with 
tribute  to  lay  at  the  No.  7  shoes  of  my  good  Nosey.  Last 
time  it  was  some  truffled  sausage  and  a  cheese  that  threat- 
ened to  asphyxiate  us,  so  we  hung  it  out  the  alley  win- 
dow in  a  string  bag,  but  it  is  delicious  once  you  get 
within  the  halo  of  smell. 

We  arranged  a  way  to  get  the  better  of  the  smell  and 
still  enjoy  the  cheese.  We  bundled  up  warmly  and  then 
opened  the  window.  Upon  the  ledge  we  cut  our  cheese, 
placing  generous  layers  of  the  rich  creaminess  between 
slices  of  fresh,  homemade  rye  bread,  and  we  ate  it  hold- 
ing our  heads  out  the  window,  at  least  Nosey  did.  I 
could  not  quite  manage  that  gymnastic,  but  I  got  my 
chair  as  close  as  possible  to  the  window.  Afterward  I 
went  to  my  room  and  rinsed  my  mouth  for  ten  minutes 
and  brushed  my  teeth  with  listerine  and  prayed  I  should 
have  no  company  that  afternoon;  but  I  did,  and  I  was 
so  self-conscious  I  finally  had  to  explain  myself,  whereat 
great  mirth  and  I  suppose  I  shall  have  the  life  teased  out 
of  me.  It  must  have  been  rather  funny,  come  to  think 
of  it. 

Midge  was  left  out  of  the  spree  and  now  won't  notice 
me,  she  is  so  mad.  Am  coming  around  to  a  belief  in  a 
possibility  of—  I  know  Midge  is  "folks." 

APRIL  30TH,— Over  a  month  since  I  wrote  in  you,  my 
patient  diary.    Such  a  nice  month  as  it  has  been,  too. 
My  boxes  sold  like  hot  cakes  and  I  have  orders  ahead 

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CHUMS 

that  will  keep  me  in  work  for  the  next  month.  I  cer- 
tainly shan't  get  rich  at  it,  but  I  shall  be  able  to  earn 
twenty-five  a  month — more  if  I  want  to  give  up  more 
time  to  it,  which  I  don't,  and  that  will  pay  for  my  little 
luxuries  this  year.  Next  year, — well,  next  year  must 
take  care  of  itself.  I  always  have  my  little  fifty-five  and 
in  this  quarter  that  is  "bloated  plutocracy,"  just  as  hav- 
ing an  entire  room  to  one's  self  is  an  indication  either  of 
wealth  or  of  undue  recklessness  in  expenditure. 

Nosey  is  going  to  marry  the  nice  German.  His  two 
well-scrubbed  blond  children  have  taken  a  fancy  to  her; 
how  could  they  help  it,  she  fairly  radiates  friendliness, 
and,  until  the  flat  over  his  shop  (which,  by  the  way,  he 
owns)  is  vacant,  they  will  all  live  here.  By  turning  out 
two  people  on  the  next  floor  there  will  be  room  enough. 

The  German  is  a  very  well  educated  man,  it  appears, 
and  comes  of  good  stock.  His  father  was  a  Lutheran 
clergyman.  So  Nosey  need  not  feel  that  her  Welch  fa- 
ther will  turn  in  his  grave,  and  I  really  believe  they  are 
going  to  be  happy. 

The  wedding  takes  place  on  the  first  and  the  newly 
wedded  pair  go  on  a  week's  honeymoon  to  the  seashore, 
taking  with  them  the  two  children.  Disinterested  affec- 
tion  can  no  further  go ! 

The  Hungarian  mother  died.  The  baby  is  flourishing 
and  Mary  Tobin  has  adopted  it.  I  nearly  fell  off  my 
chair  when  I  heard  it.  Martha  Holding  told  me.  I 
gasped  and  Martha  laughed.  "Why  Mary  will  be  the 
best  kind  of  a  mother  and  that  is  a  most  fortunate  mite, 
I  can  tell  you.  The  baby  is  to  be  named  Estrella  Tobin. ' ' 

Later  Mary  came  in  and  I  congratulated  her.  "I  sup- 
pose all  of  you  think  me  quite  daft,"  she  said.  I  has- 
tened to  assure  her  that  we  thought  nothing  of  the  kind, 
and  she  confided  to  me  that  she  had  always  meant  to  do 
it  when  the  right  time,  baby  and  circumstances  came  to 
hand. 

Midge  was  lost  for  three  days,  or  stolen ;  I  was  so  un- 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

happy  over  it  I  felt  ashamed  of  myself.  I  have  so  often 
said,  when  I  saw  women  making  a  fuss  over  a  small  dog, 
how  silly  and  how  wrong  to  lavish  care  and  money  and 
love  on  an  animal  when  the  world  is  filled  with  poor 
wretched  children.  How  we  do  have  to  ' '  eat  our  words. ' ' 
I  justify  myself  to  myself  by  saying,  ''Yes,  but  this  is 
an  exceptional  case. ' '  And  truly  it  is,  too. 

It  was  the  Italian  hot  potato  man  who  brought  Midge 
back  to  me.  He  came  across  her  in  the  arms  of  a  small 
child  over  in  Cat  Alley,  and  he  recognized  her  from  hav- 
ing seen  me  holding  her  up  at  the  window.  The  gold 
bangle  was,  of  course,  gone  from  her  neck  and  she  was 
dirty  and  covered  with  fleas,  but  I  was  so  glad  to  get  the 
small  runaway  I  did  not  care  a  tuppence. 

Jennie  Wren  is  saving  up  her  dollars,  so  that  when  she 
has  a  thousand  she  may  go  for  a  year  to  Europe.  She 
is  fairly  counting  her  pennies  and  going  without  every- 
thing unnecessary  so  that  she  may  the  sooner  get  togeth- 
er the  money.  She  has  been  saving  for  six  years  and 
has  nearly  eight  hundred  dollars.  When  she  told  me  she 
said, — "I  suppose  most  people  would  think  me  quite  mad 
and  wholly  improvident  not  to  use  that  money  as  a  nest 
egg  for  the  proverbial  rainy  day,  but  I  have  looked  the 
thing  in  the  face,  I  think,  squarely  and  made  up  my 
mind  that  about  all  that  life  held  for  me  was  joy  of  the 
spirit,  so  it  behooved  me  to  make  myself  rich.  If  I  be- 
come sick  and  am  moneyless  there  are  public  wards  of 
public  hospitals;  but  I  do  not  intend  to  be  sick,  on  the 
contrary  I  shall  be  well  enough  to  earn  my  living  up  to 
my  final  trip." 

She  has  been  reading  for  this  wonderful  trip  for  years 
and  I  marvel  at  her  knowledge.  She  has  created  a  most 
beautiful  world  for  herself  and  whether  she  goes  or  not 
in  the  flesh  won't  really  much  matter. 

The  air  is  beautifully  springlike  and  after  the  fearful 
winter  everyone  is  welcoming  this  softness. 

All  of  the  girls  who  pass  my  window  have  blossomed 

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CHUMS 

out  in  flower  trimmed  hats  and  even  my  nice,  sensible 
girl,  she  of  the  box  coats  and  short  skirts,  has  a  trim  little 
navy  blue  sailor  with  a  great  bunch  of  bachelor  buttons 
on  it,  altogether  smart  and  avenueish  looking,  and  a  very 
jaunty  dark  blue  jacket  and  skirt,  and  tan  dog-skin 
gloves.  Evidently  this  is  the  year  when  my  lady  fits 
herself  out  freshly.  I  would  like  to  bet  on  the  proposi- 
tion that  each  article  came  from  the  best  shop  selling  that 
particular  line  of  goods. 

There  is  an  added  charm  in  her  expression.  Some- 
thing pleasant  has  come  into  her  life,  I  fancy,  beyond 
the  "new  pretties"  and  the  spring,  she  always  smiles  so 
brightly  at  me. 

The  nice  middle  aged  man  now  looks  shabbier,  I  won- 
der why?  Is  it  that  he  does  not  care,  that  all  of  this 
flutter  of  soft  breezes  and  bright  frocks  has  no  effect 
upon  him,  or  must  he  for  some  reason  economize  strictly. 
It  might  seem  so,  from  his  so  often  buying  during  this 
winter  from  the  Hamburg  steak  and  hot  potato  man,  for 
I  saw  that  he  did  many  times. 

The  very,  very  pretty  girl,  she  of  the  great  pompadour 
and  stilt-like  heels,  has  disappeared  from  my  ken.  I 
wonder  where  and  why.  Such  exceeding  prettiness  is  a 
danger. 

Mr.  Wellman  has  been  to  see  me.  He  chose  one  bluster- 
ing night  when  it  seemed  that  we  had  gone  back  to  win- 
ter, about  a  month  ago.  I  was  quite  alone,  my  long  chair 
adjusted  near  the  droplight,  Midge  a  small  ball  of  fur 
before  the  fire  on  the  rug.  I  had  a  "Far  East"  mood  on 
and  was  at  Hodinugger  with  Gwen  Boynton,  Rose 
Tweedie  and  the  others,  when  I  heard  the  front  bell  ring. 
When  Nosey  opened  the  door,  the  "Can  I  see  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin ' '  was  plainly  heard.  Nosey  was  evidently  nonplussed 
but  finally  said  she  would  see,  and  knocked  at  my  door. 
I  called  out  "Yes,  Nosey,  'tis  an  old  friend,  I  know  his 
voice,  bring  him  in." 

We  had  not  met  since  the  memorable  time  when  I  de- 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

clined  firmly  to  marry  him,  almost  a  year  and  a  half  ago. 

I  would  not  allow  any  sense  of  embarrassment,  so 
greeted  him  as  though  no  time  had  elapsed  since  our  last 
meeting,  and  presently  we  were  talking  away  like  mad. 
We  always  were  the  best  of  chums  until  he  got  that 
"marry-me"  maggot  in  his  head.  He  was  just  about 
leaving  for  a  two  months'  trip  to  Mexico  and  promised 
to  bring  me  a  lot  of  photographs;  it  was  almost  twelve 
when  he  said  goodbye.  I  don't  know  when  I  have  had 
so  jolly  an  evening. 

Martha  Holding  asked  me  to  write  for  the  settlement 
workers,  a  little  tale  of  my  accident  and  my  life,  putting 
in  detail  my  small  economies  and  management  of 
finances.  I  have  done  so.  It  was  for  one  of  the  "Com- 
fort Meetings"  which  are  proving  so  successful. 

To  break  up  the  statistical  and  tabulated  look  and 
sound  of  it,  I  made  it  into  a  sort  of  diary. 

It  has,  it  seems,  proved  a  howling  success.  So  much  so 
that  many  people  have  asked  to  have  the  menus  and  di- 
rections and  Mary  Tobin  has  decided  to  let  the  printers 
strike  off  a  hundred  copies  to  be  sold  at  fifty  cents  a 
copy,  which  will  pay  for  the  expense. 

Had  a  letter  from  Thirla  after  so  long  a  silence  that  I 
had  begun  to  fear  her  seriously  ill.  I  will  copy  it  down 
now. 

"CROSS  ROADS,  April  22nd. 

My  last  letter,  dear  woman,  went  to  you  from  the  very 
heart  of  a  blizzard,  which  left  in  its  track  devastation  of 
all  sorts.  Our  old,  well-built  house  stood,  but  two  of  our 
barns  and  any  quantity  of  out-houses  went,  and  after 
the  blizzard  had  spent  its  fury  the  weather  was  so  cruelly 
cold  that  we  were  house-bound,  and  we  all  got  a  trifle 
rasped  as  to  nerves,  so  that  when  the  weather  broke  there 
was  great  rejoicing. 

I  managed  to  get  along  rather  better  than  the  others, 
as  there  was  no  very  great  difference  between  this  and 

277 


other  times  to  me,  but  the  children!  ye  gods!  how  they 
did  racket.  For  the  very  first  time  in  their  lives  I  could 
have  wished  myself  somewhere  else. 

Speaking  of  wishing  myself  somewhere  else,  if  I  had 
the  money  do  you  know  what  I  would  do  ?  I  would  hire 
a  nurse  and  a  stretcher  and  have  myself  transplanted 
bodily  to  New  York  and  beg  nice,  kind  Mrs.  Nosey  to 
take  me  in  and  let  me  have  a  room  next  to  you  for  a 
couple  of  months. 

I  want  to  meet  all  of  these  people  you  write  me  of :  I 
want  to  see  activity  again,  even  though  I  can  take  no  part 
in  it.  Your  letters  have  brought  me  new  impulses.  The 
life  currents  have  taken  on  higher  rates  of  vibration  be- 
cause of  this  breaking  up  of  the  years'  long  apathy,  and 
I  feel  as  I  did  oh,  years  and  years  ago  and  find  it  almost 
impossible  to  believe  myself  couch-bound. 

I  suppose  it  is  just  old  dame  nature  getting  in  a  bit  of 
what  my  nephew  terms  her  "fine  work,"  a  sort  of  last 
call. 

Of  course  it  is  not  necessary  to  tell  you,  you  most  in- 
tuitive of  friends,  that  I  have  been  and,  in  fact,  am 
struggling  with  what  is  popularly  called  a  case  of  blue 
devils.  All  of  which  is  very  silly,  and  do  not  for  an  in- 
stant think  I  am  giving  way  to  them.  On  the  contrary  I 
regularly,  daily,— or  rather  nightly,  for  it's  then  they 
are  most  devilish, — take  myself  well  in  hand  and  have  it 
out  with  myself  and  by  the  time  I  have  cast  up  the  ac- 
count, always  showing  a  balance  to  the  good  in  blessings, 
(the  finding  of  you  not  among  the  least),  I  drop  off  to 
sleep  thinking  'at  last  am  I  rid  of  the  brutes?'  No 
such  good  fortune.  One  greets  my  eyes  upon  opening 
them  the  following  morning,  and  others  flock  fast.  I  am 
at  the  last  of  my  resources,  everything  that  I  have  in  the 
past  found  efficacious  fails  me  lamentably  now.  What 
I  need  is  an  object  lesson,  quite  evidently.  Can  you  not 
scare  up  a  No.  3  to  our  club,  someone  who  is  so  much 
worse  off  than  we,  or  rather  I,  that  I  can  feel  myself  in 

278 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-L\" 

great  luck  in  comparison?  I  suppose  that  is  a  weird 
idea,  but  the  other  night  when  I  was  going  over  my  bless- 
ings a  hateful  little  demon  kept  whispering  "I  don't 
believe  anyone  is  so  badly  off"  right  in  the  midst  of  my 
most  valiant  assertions. 

I  am  flatly  disgusted  with  myself.  Come  to  the  rescue 
with  a  good  strong  plank,  or  I  shall  be  drowned  in  a  sea 
of  my  own  fears. 

Yours,  THIRLA." 

I  did  not  let  any  time  slip  away  before  answering  that 
letter  and  I  hope  my  answer  carried  comfort.  Good 
Lord!  who  would  not  get  blue,  shut  off  for  years  from 
everything  that  spells  life,  in  a  narrow  family  circle, 
away  out  on  the  edge  of  the  bleakest  winter  land,  poor 
dear! 

I  read  her  letter  to  Jennie  Wren  and  Jimmy  Wise  and 
they  both  said, — "Oh,  what  a  tragedy  of  loneliness  and 
heartache,  and  is  she  not  the  bravest ! ' ' 

That  is,  Jennie  said  that  and  Jimmy  nodded  agree- 
ment. Jimmy  I  find  generally  does  agree  with  Jennie. 

MAY  TTH,— Thirla's  letter  lay  so  on  my  heart  that  I 
could  not  settle  comfortably  to  my  usual  occupations  and 
as  Mary  Tobin  dropped  in  to  tea  the  second  day  after  it 
came,  I  read  it  to  her. 

After  I  had  finished,  Mary  said, — "I  have  the  No.  3 
for  your  club  that  your  friend  wants.  If  you  two  wom- 
en do  not  realize  that  you  both  are  fortunate,  after  what 
Ann  Clancy  can  tell  you  of  woes,  I  am  willing  to  call 
myself  anything  you  name." 

' '  Ann  Clancy !  who  on  earth  is  she  ?  and  what  an  un- 
compromising sort  of  name,  it  sounds  grim. ' ' 

Mary  smiled.  "Well  it  sounds  wrong,  then,  for  she 
is  anything  but  grim.  I  will  let  her  tell  you  about  her- 
self in  her  own  way,  but  it  was  only  this  very  morning 
that  she  said  to  me, — 

279 


CHUMS 

"Miss  Mary,  don't  you  know  someone  worse  off  than 
I,  whom  I  can  cheer  up  a  trifle  by  an  occasional  letter?" 

"I  said  no!  and  I  meant  it,  but  now  I  have  heard  your 
Thirla's  cry-from-the- wilderness  I  take  it  back.  I'll 
leave  you  Ann's  address.  You  can  drop  her  a  note  and 
tell  her  of  your  friend's  woes." 

Mary  wrote  on  a  scrap  of  paper  from  her  note  book, — 

MRS.  ANN  CLANCY, 
4th  Floor,  Room  Front, 
No.  0  Cat  Alley,  off  Munster  Place, 

Entrance  through  blind  Alley. 

I  must  have  stared,  for  she  laughed  and  said, — 

"The  location  leaves  a  few  things  to  be  desired  in  the 
way  of  outlook  and  general  sanitation,  does  it  not  ? ' ' 

Then  she  left  and  I  sat  for  an  hour  conjuring  up  hor- 
rors. Finally  I  wrote  a  note  to  this  Ann  person  and  I 
gave  her  an  outline  of  Thirla's  and  my  life  and  enclosed 
Thirla's  letters,  including  this  last  one. 

Two  days  later  the  postman  gave  me  the  answer 
through  the  open  window  where  I  sat  getting  a  glimpse 
of  the  two  solitary  bits  of  green  within  sight  and  a  dash 
of  radiant  blue  sky,  incidentally  busying  myself  with 
my  box-making,  which  thrives.  I  will  just  copy  it  in 
my  diary  along  with  my  other  ones. 

"CAT  ALLEY,  May  2nd. 

So— Hilda  Martin,  you  and  your  friend  Thirla  want 
someone  to  feel  sorry  for,  someone  who  is  so  much  worse 
off  in  most  ways  than  you  both  that  by  contrast  you  may 
feel  fortunate. 

Yes,  I  know  that  feeling,  I  too  had  it,  occasionally  still 
have  it,  but  in  my  surroundings  it  is  so  very  easy  of 
gratification. 

Evidently  the  good  Mary  told  you  nothing  of  me,  and 
you  want  to  know.  I  will  put  it  rather  baldly  and  we 
can  fill  up  in  fullest  manner  later. 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN'' 

I  am  forth:  Scotch-Irish,  the  widow  of  an  Irishman, 
one  of  the  cleverest  of  men,  and  without  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt  the  very  worst.  He  is  serving  a  thirty  years' 
sentence  in  Joliet. 

I  was  born  in  Dublin.  My  father  was  a  barrister, 
talented  and  ambitious.  He  committed  suicide  when  I 
was  under  thirteen,  leaving  little. 

My  governess  and  masters  were  sent  away.  My  moth- 
er, heartbroken  and  ashamed,  took  me,  her  only  child, 
with  her  to  the  Continent,  where  for  some  six  years  we 
lived  in  small  cities  where  we  were  unknown  and  could 
wear  our  shabby  clothes  without  fear  of  comment.  Then 
she  died  and  I  was  quite  alone  in  the  world. 

I  met  the  man.  At  that  time  he  was  kind  to  me,  a 
lonely  girl.  He  professed  to  love  me  and  we  were  mar- 
ried. From  that  time  until  I  was  thirty-four  we  lived 
as  do  our  kind  in  most  of  the  capitals  of  Europe,  and 
finally  came  to  America.  Six  months  after  our  arrival 
he  was  caught,  tried,  sentenced  and  condemned  to  prison 
for  thirty  years,  for  forgery  and  embezzlement. 

Two  years  after,  as  I  was  coming  from  my  work  one 
evening  (I  had  applied  for  and  obtained  a  position  as 
saleswoman  in  a  large  cloak  shop,  and  was  settling  down 
into  a  sort  of  resigned  contentment)  as  I  started  to  get 
off  the  car  at  my  corner,  I  was  thrown  violently  from  the 
step,  directly  in  front  of  a  team.  The  horses  injured  me 
before  the  people  who  rushed  to  my  assistance  could  drag 
me  away. 

I  spent  a  year  in  the  hospital  and  left  it  minus  one  leg, 
gone  from  the  knee,  and  the  other,  useless,  really  worse, 
for  it 's  only  a  nuisance  and  I  wish  it  were  gone  too. 

I  might  have  sued  the  railroad,  but  I  did  not,  so  that 
when  I  faced  life  again  I  had  almost  literally  nothing. 
My  employer,  a  kind  man,  sent  me  two  hundred  dollars. 
I  hated  to  take  it,  but  I  felt  I  must,  as  a  loan.  I  have  re- 
paid it. 

I  had  made  a  friend  of  a  woman  who  was  a  patient  in 

281 


CHUMS 

the  cot  next  to  me  at  the  hospital  and  when  she  left, 
months  before  I,  she  made  me  promise  that  I  would  come 
to  her  when  I  left  the  hospital.  She  was  also  poor,  but 
could  work.  I  went  and  we  lived  together  for  two  years, 
I  doing  the  home-keeping, — I  am  wonderfully  spry  on 
my  crutches,— she  earning  the  money  for  the  home.  That 
brought  me  to  two  years  ago,  when  she,  dear  soul,  passed 
out  and  on. 

Then  I  went  to  keep  house  for  two  working-girls  who 
wanted  a  home.  At  the  end  of  a  year  they  both  married. 

Then  I  determined  to  make  a  home  for  myself.  Dur- 
ing these  years  I  had  put  by  a  little  money,  earned  by 
various  methods,  such  as  mending,  darning,  and  occa- 
sional copying  of  music,  which  I  am  good  at,  and  so  I 
took  this  room  in  this  location,  partly  because  of  an  idea 
that  I  had  of  which  I  will  tell  you  later.  Partly  because 
the  rental  was  so  little  and  it  got  sunlight,  something  de- 
sirable when  one  wants  to  save  on  fuel  and  light. 

I  had  it  scrubbed  within  an  inch  of  its  life,  and  the 
walls  covered  with  a  cheap  but  pretty  paper;  at  its  two 
windows  I  put  fresh  scrim  curtains  which  I  hemstitched ; 
added  a  couple  of  rag  rugs,  which  I  made ;  a  box  couch ; 
a  plain  deal  table;  a  chest  of  drawers;  a  couple  of  low 
chairs ;  a  little  stove.  One  shelf  held  my  entire  outfit  of 
table  wear. 

I  had  left  from  the  old  times  a  few  things  in  the  way 
of  pretties,  but  I  did  not  want  to  use  them  at  the  start, 
as  the  possession  of  them  there  would  interfere  with  the 
plan  I  had. 

Owing  to  the  settlement  women's  insistence,  water  was 
piped  to  each  floor  of  this  house,  so  I  could  easily  get 
what  I  needed.  Back  of  a  screen  was  my  tub,  a  zinc 
washtub,  connected  by  a  pipe  with  the  waste  pipe  of  the 
wash  basin.  Poor  as  the  people  were  amongst  whom  I 
had  taken  up  my  life,  none  but  felt  me  poorer,  and  that 
was  what  I  wanted,  the  first  step  along  the  road. 

Now  I  have  been  living  here  nearly  a  year.    I  manage 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

to  earn  about  thirty  dollars  a  month,  occasionally, — not 
often,— forty.  Several  times  it  has  fallen  as  low  as 
twenty. 

Gradually  I  have  added  the  few  things  I  had  left  with 
a  friend  to  keep  for  me,  and  now  a  long  book-shelf,  or 
rather  four  shelves  hold  my  small  library.  On  the  walls 
are  my  dozen  pictures.  I  have  had  one  of  my  two  win- 
dows glassed  out,  so  that  all  winter  my  flowers  flourish, 
and  I  envy  no  one  anything. 

I  am  rich  in  friends.  The  heart  histories  of  all  my 
neighbors  are  confided  to  me.  My  life  is  very  full  and  I 
consider  it  very  blest. 

Although  I  can  get  about  well  on  a  level  I  can  do 
nothing  with  stairs,  so  I  am  virtually  a  "shut-in."  Since 
I  came  here  I  have  not  been  down-stairs  but  once. 

There  you  have  my  story.  Do  you  want  to  call  me  No. 
3  in  this  trinity? 

Send  this  on  to  your  Thirla.  Her  letters  have  been  so 
good  for  me.  They  brought  me  a  breath  of  the  open  and 
great  spaces.  There  has  always  been  in  me  a  crying 
hunger  for  them. 

Yours, 

ANN  CLANCY/' 

I  was  so  interested  and  excited  that  I  wrote  straight 
away  off  to  Thirla,  telling  her  all  about  things  and  en- 
closing Ann's  letter.  Oh!  what  a  wonderful  world  it  is. 

Dear  Nosey,— I  cannot  remember  to  call  her  by  her 
new  name, — is  just  home  from  her  week's  honeymoon 
and  as  happy  as  can  be.  I  missed  her  sorely,  as  I  had  to 
wait  on  myself  entirely.  It  is  the  baths  that  are  the  dif- 
ficult things,  but  I  must  not  grumble,  I  am  in  great  good 
luck  to  be  able  to  have  them  at  all.  I  can  stand  poverty, 
that's  a  mere  nothing;  I  can  stand  a  certain  amount  of 
sickness,  and  pain ;  but  if  I  had  to  submit  to  being  poor 
and  sick  and  dirty  I  would  cheerfully  give  up  the  ghost. 

Last  evening  we  had  a  musical  treat.    Jimmy  and  Mr. 

283 


CHUMS 

Vail  played  for  a  couple  of  hours  and  Jennie  and  I  sat 
and  got  really  music  drunk.  Afterwards  we  had  a  small 
spread  and  talked  over  our  favorites.  Mr.  Grossburg 
(the  new  husband)  is  a  music  lover;  likewise,  in  his 
"hours  of  ease"  plays  the  flute.  Of  course,  it  would  be 
either  flute  or  piccolo;  the  great  giants  of  men  invari- 
ably do  and  the  midgets  play  the  bass  viol.  It  seems  Mr. 
G.  has  taken  an  absorbing  interest  in  our  evenings.  I 
think  we  shall  have  to  ask  him  occasionally  to  join  us. 

JUNE  STH, — I  am,  as  I  sit  writing,  looking  out  to  the 
street  across  a  window-box  of  mignonette  and  pink  ivy 
geranium,  and  I  feel  extremely  festive. 

The  weather  is  everything  that  weather  should  be  in 
June.  Everyone  is  wearing  a  June  expression  and  the 
hats  of  all  the  girls  who  go  past  are  veritable  flower  gar- 
dens. 

Yesterday  I  saw  my  nice  bookkeeper  and  my  nice  tail- 
or-made girl  go  past  together  and  apparently  very  in- 
terested in  each  other  and  I  noticed  that  he  is  what  Nosey 
would  call  "spruced  up."  Likewise  she  has  taken  to  a 
hat  with  a  half -wreath  of  pale  pink  roses.  Oh !  would  it 
not  be  charming  if  they  two  should  fall  in  love?  I  am 
quite  certain  that  they  would  be  happy.  Which  state- 
ment, considering  that  I  have  but  a  bowing  acquaintance 
with  one  of  the  parties  concerned,  certainly  either  indi- 
cates rare  powers  of  intuition  on  my  part,  or  a  general 
mushiness  of  dull  gray  matter.  I  choose  to  believe  it  the 
former. 

As  quickly  as  mails  could  bring  it,  I  heard  from  Thir- 
la  in  answer  to  my  letter  enclosing  Ann's.  Such  a  let- 
ter! 

"CROSS  ROADS. 
DEAR  SAMARITAN, — 

I  have  written  to  Ann  today  and  I  have  read  and  re- 
read her  letter.  All  day  it  haunted  me— all  night  I  pic- 

284 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

tured  her  and  her  surroundings.  What  a  history,  and 
told  like  the  report  of  a  deal  in  wheat,  instead  of  in  hu- 
man hearts  and  lives.  I  think  it  gained  in  effectiveness 
from  the  very  manner  of  telling.  My  imagination  filled 
in  the  details  as  my  eyes  grasped  the  outline.  The  brav- 
ery, the  sheer  pluck  of  it  all !  I  shall  be  on  tenter-hooks 
until  I  hear  from  her  again. 

What  is  this  plan  she  speaks  of  ?  Have  you  any  idea  * 
Oh,  I  should  like  to  see  her. 

A  crazy  scheme  came  to  me  as  I  read  that  sentence  "it 
brought  me  a  breath  of  the  open  and  great  spaces. ' '  This 
scheme  might  seem  on  the  face  of  it  a  wild  and  imprac- 
tical one,  so  before  I  give  voice  to  it  I  will  think  it  over 
well. 

For  the  nonce  I  am  over  my  wild  yearnings.  Proba- 
bly the  weather  has  helped.  'Tis  no  end  lovely  now  and 
once  more  I  am  out  of  doors  day  and  night,  and  as  we 
are  having  the  wrecked  barns  and  out-houses  rebuilt, 
there  is  a  cheerful  sound  of  hammer  and  saw,  and  often 
as  many  as  two  neighbors  a  day  drive  in  to  inspect  and 
suggest,  so  that  things  seem  quite  lively. 

My  good  sister  has  been  ordered  off 'for  a  change  so 
she  is  taking  one  of  ber  girls  and  going  to  Butte  for  a 
two  months '  visit  with  our  old  friend  who  is  married  and 
living  there,  and  the  rest  of  the  chicks  are  going  to  run 
the  house,  turn  and  turn  about,  until  her  return. 

I  propose  to  be  very  busy  this  summer.  That  busy  bee 
won't  be  in  it  with  yours  truly.  You  must  grow  accus- 
tomed to  my  copious  use  of  slang.  With  eight  young- 
sters about  one  can  really  not  help  absorbing  it  and  final- 
ly getting  to  feel  that  it  only  adequately  expresses.  What 
a  spendthrift  lot  we  are,  we  Americans.  The  way  we 
throw  away  our  adjectives  and  double  superlatives  forces 
us  to  coin  new  terms. 

Your  account  of  your  box  making  and  its  success  has 
greatly  interested  me.  What  delightful  work. 

I  am  sending  you  by  this  post  a  little  box,  made  by 

285 


CHUMS 

my  mother's  mother,  easily  seventy  years  ago.  Yes,  you 
are  to  keep  it.  I  have  another  and,  in  fact,  in  the  family 
we  own  still  another.  It  seemed  a  favorite  way  of  amus- 
ing one's  self  in  her  day. 

My  sister  has  a  quantity  of  things  that  go  back  to  our 
grandmothers'  and  great-grandmothers'  time:  some  old 
silver  and  prints;  some  etchings  and  quaint  old  faded 
pastels  and  water  colors.  I  have  always  cast  longing 
eyes  on  them,  but  they  were  left  to  her  by  a  sister  of  our 
mother's  who  loved  her  and  distinctly  disapproved  of 
me.  Upon  looking  back  to  my  childhood  days,  I  find 
that  I  was  rather  a  'limb'  as  the  saying  goes,  while  my 
sister  was  everything  that  a  girl  should  be. 

My  niece  has  just  brought  me  out  a  great  bowl  of  but- 
ter and  sugar  to  cream  for  her  cake  and  now,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  housekeeper,  even  I  must  do  my  share. 
(Parenthetically— I  adore  the  particular  kind  of  cake 
that  this  is  to  be  creamed  for,  so  goodbye  for  this  time.) 

Yours'        THIRLA." 

I  wondered  what  she  had  written  to  Ann  and  a  few 
days  after  I  heard,  a  little  of  it.  Ann  did  not  send  me 
the  letter.  I  think  I  can  see  that  it  is  those  two  who  are 
going  to  "belong"  the  hardest.  The  knowledge  gave  me 
a  pang  for  a  moment,  but  I  downed  it.  The  green-eyed 
monster  shall  find  no  single  nook  or  corner  wherein  to 
dwell  and  instead,  I'll  just  glory  in  the  good  that  those 
two  will  get  out  of  the  friendship. 

The  box  Thirla  sent  arrived  and  of  all  the  ducky 
things!  It  is  a  small  arm-chair  the  seat  of  which  lifts 
up  and  under  is  a  place  for  rings.  It  is  perfect,  the 
whole  thing  done  in  needle-point,  a  replica  of  a  tapestry 
arm-chair.  I  shall  just  love  it  and  have  put  it  on  my 
dressing-table,  but  really  it  should  go  in  a  cabinet,  only 
that  I  do  not  now  possess  such  a  luxury.  I  shall  copy  the 
idea,  only  I  shall  not  do  it  in  needle-point  embroidery, 
but,  instead,  in  a  bit  of  gorgeous  Dresden  ribbon. 

My  boxes  are  selling  so  well  that  I  have  to  remind  my- 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

self  that  I  must  not  be  taken  with  a  fit  of  undue  pride 
or  a  fit  of  undue  recklessness.  It  may  be  that  they  have 
got  only  a  passing  grip  on  the  feminine  fancy  and  will 
have  their  day.  My  brain  is  working  over-time  trying 
to  vary  the  designs  and  thus  create  a  fresh  demand.  All 
sorts  of  purely  decorative  work  appeal  strongly,  which 
is  rather  a  queer  proposition,  considering  to  what  rather 
stern  practicalities  my  life  has  been  reduced.  Which 
remark  I  made  to  Mr.  Wellman  recently,  and  could  have 
bitten  out  my  tongue  directly  after,  fearing  that  he 
might  think  me  pitying  myself,  or  possibly  wanting 
again  to  be  invited  to  be  Mrs.  Wellman. 

The  chums,  of  whom  Martha  Holding  has  so  often 
spoken,  have  arrived  and  are  soon  coming  to  have  tea 
with  me.  It  is  so  delightful  to  me  that,  in  spite  of  all  of 
the  limitations  of  my  position  and  condition,  I  am  not 
avoided. 

Mary  Tobin  came  in  to  bring  me  the  message  from 
Martha  and  tell  me  of  Ann's  receipt  of  Thirla's  letter. 
In  reference  to  a  remark  that  she  (Mary)  had  made 
about  Thirla's  and  my  realization  of  our  blessings  after 
we  had  heard  Ann's  woes,  I  had  quite  misunderstood 
her.  She  did  not  mean  Ann's  personal  woes,  for  it  ap- 
pears that  Ann  does  not  consider  that  she  has  a  woe,  let 
alone  woes,  but  she  meant  the  vicarious  ones.  Everyone 
goes  to  Ann  for  advice  and  sympathy  and  in  consequence 
she  is  able  to  give  pointers  on  how  to  keep  alive  on  next 
to  nothing  a  month ;  how  to  keep  warm  with  next  to  noth- 
ing on ;  how  to  be  cheerful  though  next  to  empty. 

The  Salvation  Army  people  have  opened  a  reading- 
room  and  relief  bureau  just  across  the  street  and  I  am 
watching  proceedings  with  great  interest.  The  officer  in 
charge  is  a  woman  of  forty -odd  with  a  very  dear  face ;  I 
should  like  to  know  her.  We  are  already  on  a  smiling 
and  nodding  acquaintance. 

JULY  26TH,— I  will  copy  Thirla's  last  letter  the  first 
thing  before  I  go  into  any  details  of  the  doings  of  these 
past  weeks. 

287 


CHUMS 

"CROSS  ROADS. 
BEST  AND  MOST  UNDERSTANDING  OP  WOMEN,— 

I  read  between  the  lines  of  your  letter  and  lest  there 
should  be  the  slightest  shadow  of  a  misapprehension,  let 
me  hasten  to  say  that  whilst  you  are  right  in  one  way, 
Ann  has  touched  my  heart  greatly,  yet  Ann  nor  anyone 
else  can  ever  be  to  me  what  you  have  been  through  these 
last  few  months.  It  seems  difficult  to  realize  that  it  is 
only  a  question  of  months,  we  seem  always  to  have  be- 
longed. 

Since  I  wrote  last  nothing  of  any  great  interest  has  oc- 
curred here,  or  to  me.  Things  are  going  on  in  their  ac- 
customed way,  so  I  will  copy  Ann's  letter  to  me.  How 
queer  that  you  and  she,  separated  but  by  a  mile  of  brick 
and  mortar,  should  commence  acquaintance  in  this  way. 

CAT  ALLEY. 

There  was  a  strip  of  wild  Irish  coast  where,  as  a  child, 
in  company  with  my  mother  and  governess,  I  went  often 
during  the  heat  of  the  summer.  We  had  a  cottage  there, 
just  on  the  edge  of  the  land  and  it  was  that,  I  think,  that 
bit  deep  into  my  soul  the  love  and  hunger  for  great 
spaces,  dear  Thirla  woman,  and  it  has  been  a  long,  long 
while  that  my  farthest  gaze  has  been  across  a  narrow 
brick  courtyard, — if  I  look  out;  but  if  I  look  up,  ah! 
then  it  is  quite  different. 

During  the  summer  here  in  New  York,  everyone  who 
cannot  stand  the  crowded,  heated  rooms,  goes  to  the 
parks  and  roofs,  and  I  have  been  sleeping  on  a  strip  of 
roof  which  is  off  my  room,  just  large  enough  to  hold  my 
mattress  comfortably.  One  of  my  neighbors,  a  handy 
man,  cut  down  the  bit  of  wall,  so  it  is  flush  with  my  floor, 
and  made  me  a  door  out  there.  With  no  roof,  I  can  lie 
and  look  up  into  the  sky  and  thus  get  my  '  great  spaces. ' 
The  immensity  staggers  one's  imagination. 

Aside  from  that  particular  hunger  I  really  am  well 
content.  You  see,  so  much  of  life  comes  to  me  that  I 
never  for  a  moment  feel  lonely. 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

You  ask  so  particularly  about  what  the  plan  is  that  I 
mentioned,  I  feel  it  best  to  tell  you  now  so  that  we  can 
get  acquainted  rapidly.  You  see,  I,  to  be  content  with 
myself,  must  be  of  some  real  use  in  life,  and  as  almost 
every  avenue  of  usefulness  was  closed  to  me  because  of 
my  physical  drawbacks,  there  remained  but  the  one  that 
a  friend  of  mine,  a  Salvation  Army  lass,  calls  '  radiation. ' 
So,  then,  where  to  establish  a  'center'  where  it  was 
most  needed,  and  I  knew  that  this  particular  district  was 
about  as  good  a  field  as  could  be  found.  Every  one  of 
the  vices  and,  as  far  as  the  casual  glance  went,  none  of 
the  virtues.  The  first  step  was  to  find  a  place  where  my 
great  need  of  decent  air  and  sun  could  be  gratified,  and 
I  found  it  here  on  the  fourth  floor.  My  room  is  so  situ- 
ated that  I  do  get  sunshine.  Then,  to  become  known  in 
the  quarter  as  pretty  helpless,  absolutely  poor,  earning 
my  living,  and  that  the  simplest :  yet  clean,  with  my  one 
room  a  restful  and  not  unattractive  place.  Right  there 
I,  of  course,  had  the  pull  in  influence,  for  was  I  not  one 
of  them?  So  it  has  been  a  wonderful  year  to  me,  and 
now?  Now!  I  would  not  give  up  the  opportunities  that 
have  come  to  me  in  exchange  for  any  amount  of  what 
goes  under  the  name  of  '  the  comforts '  of  life. 

Now,  all  that  I  would  welcome  the  possession  of  money 
for  would  be  to  help,  and  my  charities  would  mostly  take 
the  shape  of  kindergartens,  arts  and  crafts  schools  and 
agricultural  schools,  helping  people  to  help  themselves, 
and  making  them  see  the  unloveliness  of  the  so-called 
'life  of  ease.' 

I  have  a  good  many  socialist  friends,  people  who  have 
what  I  believe  to  be  the  right  idea,  and  the  reports  that 
I  get  are  encouraging,— but  I  am  getting  away  from  my 
daily  doings,  and  that,  it  seems,  is  the  thing  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

How  things  fall  away  from  us,  the  small  vanities  and 
aims,  as  we  grow  older,  and  especially  if  we  be  forced 
by  physical  limitations  to  live  more  from  within.  I  look 
'back  to  all  of  those  selfish  years  and  marvel  not  so  much 

289 


CHUMS 

at  the  fact  of  the  selfishness,  bless  you  no,  I  am  quite  as 
much  so  now,  but  at  the  particular  kind  of  selfishness. 

You  see  we  change  even  in  our  outlook  upon  life,  don't 
we  ?  The  time  was  when  it  would  have  seemed  utter  aw- 
fulness  to  be  poor,  crippled,  and  living  in  Cat  Alley. 
Why,  I  can  well  remember  the  time,  and  it  was  not  so 
far  back,  that  I  trembled  at  the  thought  of  a  possible 
privation.  Just  a  few  short  years  do  wonders.  Now,  I 
believe  that  I  am  getting  more  downright  joy  out  of  life 
than  I  ever  even  suspected  life  had  in  it. 

To  your  question  of  whether  it  does  not  make  me  mis- 
erable to  see  all  of  the  want  and  wretchedness :  Yes  and 
no.  You  see,  believing  as  I  do  that  we  get  just  what  we 
have  earned,  I  can  not  feel  it  right  to  feel  too  badly,  any 
more  than  I  can  feel  badly  over  myself,  that  part  of  it  all 
I  resolutely  put  away  from  me.  And  now  I  am  building 
for  myself  and  helping  others  to  build,  better  karmas 
for  'next  time'  and  so  the  days  go.  And  all  of  these 
heart  histories  and  problems  that  come  before  my  eyes, 
do  you  think  I  would  miss  these? 

As  I  have  'reduced  my  desires  within  the  bounds  of 
the  enough'  I  find  myself  having  considerable  time  that 
I  can  spend  as  I  wish  with  a  clear  conscience.  So  I  read 
and  even  study.  Owing  to  my  past  life  of  'pillar  to 
post'  I  am  a  good  bit  of  a  linguist  and  possess  some  half- 
dozen  languages  and  am  now  adding  to  my  stock.  This 
is  a  most  polyglot  district,  you  know,  so  my  accomplish- 
ment comes  in  well. 

All  sorts  of  interesting  things  have  come  under  my 
eyes  since  my  arrival  here  in  Cat  Alley.  "We  have  har- 
bored people  belonging  to  about  every  known  and  many 
old,  dimly  suspected  trades.  We  have  had  marriages, 
births,  deaths,  suicides  and  murders;  and  little  things 
like  fights,  daily.  We  have  even  had  the  honor  of  hav- 
ing a  case  of  triplets,  and  they  were  the  cutest  things. 

So  you  see  my  life  is  not  cut  off  from  human  interests. 

I  am  going  to  make  a  great  effort  some  day  next  week 

290 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

and  go  to  see  Hilda  Martin.  Two  of  the  boys  in  the 
house  will  carry  me  down  stairs  and  Dr.  Holding's  cous- 
in, Mrs.  Ferguson,  is  to  lend  me  her  carriage,  and  from 
it  to  Hilda 's  room,  which  they  tell  me  is  on  the  first  floor, 
I  can  make  shift  with  my  crutches  and  a  bit  of  help.  I 
am  most  anxious  to  see  her.  After  I  have  seen  her  I  will 
write  you  all  about  our  visit. 

Yours, 

ANN. 

So,  my  dearest  Hilda  woman,  you  two  will  be  able  to 
actually  look  into  each  other's  eyes  deep  down  and  read 
the  soul  writing.  Oh,  I  am  jealous !  When  you  tell  me 
of  it,  tell  me  every  least  thing :  what  you  wore,  what  you 
did,  what  you  said. 

Lovingly, 

THIRLA." 

Well,  the  visit  was  paid,  and  such  a  day  as  we  had  to- 
gether. We  ' '  chummed ' '  from  the  moment  our  eyes  met 
and  as  she  came  early  we  had  a  nice  long  visit.  Lunch- 
eon together,  and  we  got  it  ourselves.  It  was  a  warm 
day  and  we  were  both  so  excited  that  we  could  not  eat 
much,  so  we  compromised  on  bowls  of  crackers  and  milk 
and  gave  the  luncheon  to  a  couple  of  children  who  were 
eating  but  a  piece  of  bread,  sitting  on  the  curb.  I 
passed  the  dish  out  of  the  window  to  them,  and  they  lit- 
erally cleaned  it  out.  It  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to 
an  article  that  had  been  polished,  when  it  was  returned 
with  thanks. 

In  the  afternoon,  just  as  I  was  making  tea,  Martha 
Holding  came,  bringing  with  her  the  two  chums  she  had 
so  often  spoken  of,  delightful  women,  and  we  did  have  a 
jolly  tea.  They  brought  an  armful  of  flowers  and  filled 
all  of  my  jugs  and  vases  and  stayed  until  six  o'clock, 
promising  to  come  again. 

Bell  Ferguson  came  to  get  Ann  and  we  said  goodbye. 

291 


CHUMS 

^ 

I  never  hated  so  to  see  anyone  go  away  as  I  did  to  see 
her. 

I  wish  we  three,  Thirla,  Ann  and  I  could  live  together. 

Jimmy  Wise  has  confided  in  me.  He  is  in  love  with 
Jennie  Wren.  I  suspected  it,  dear  old  Jimmy,  the  very 
kindest  and  best  of  men.  I  wonder  if  she  cares  anything 
for  him?  I  know  that  she  likes  him,  but  that  is  abso- 
lutely all  I  do  know.  Jimmy  has  asked  me  to  find  out 
for  him.  He  is  too  timid  to  ask  point  blank. 

I  think  my  nice  girl  and  the  bookkeeper  are  certainly 
engaged.  And  he  looks  years  younger,  is  brtished  and 
pressed,  polished  and  button-holed  to  within  an  inch  of 
his  life.  I  am  so  glad  I  knew  those  two  belonged. 

In  this  weather  every  one  who  can  lives  out-of-doors: 
last  week  Mr.  Grossburg  arranged  with  the  landlord  of 
this  place  for  a  long  lease  and  now  he  is  going  to  build 
out  a  little  balcony  and  cut  down  one  of  my  front  win- 
dows, so  I  can  wheel  my  chair  out  on  it  every  day.  I 
am  so  delighted.  All  of  my  friends  who  take  an  inter- 
est in  me  have  been  to  congratulate  me.  So  quite  soon 
now  I,  too,  shall  belong  to  the  sidewalk  and  front  stoop 
brigade. 

SEPT.  2ND, — Last  month  was  so  fiercely  hot  that  I 
nearly  melted.  Lost  pounds,  but,  aside  from  the  dis- 
comfort, felt  very  well.  My  room  being  on  the  shady 
side  afternoons  was  a  great  comfort.  Likewise,  my  bal- 
cony is  a  joy  to  me.  It's  so  close  to  the  sidewalk  that 
every  passer-by  can  brush  its  railing,  but  I  like  that.  It 
gives  me  a  feeling  of  being  in  the  world,  and  as  every- 
one in  the  neighborhood  is  friendly,  it  is  very  jolly. 

I  have  an  awning  and  some  pots  of  flowers  and  the 
man  with  the  sprinkling  cart  goes  past  twice  a  day. 

I  have  taken  to  just  about  living  out-of-doors,  for  I 
eat  my  luncheon,  drink  my  tea  and  usually  eat  my  sup- 
per here.  I  feel  quite  festive.  It's  done  something  to 
my  spirits  and  when  Jennie  and  Jimmy  or  Mr.  Vail  drop 

292 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

in  to  supper  and  we  all  sit  about  the  window  and  on  the 
balcony,  with  our  table  drawn  up,  it  seems  like  a  faint 
ghost  of  long  ago,  under  other  skies,  under  oh !  such  dif- 
ferent circumstances. 

We  have  our  musical  evening  regularly :  Jimmy  at  the 
piano,  Mr.  Vail  with  his  violin  and  Mr.  Grossburg  with 
the  flute,  which  I  must  admit  the  good  man  plays  re- 
markably well.  From  eight  to  ten  they  play  and  Jennie 
and  I,  and  sometimes  Nosey,  sit  out  on  the  balcony  and 
listen.  So  does  the  entire  neighborhood — not  on  the  bal- 
cony, but  on  the  curbstone,  the  front  steps  and  the  fire- 
escapes.  How  these  people  do  adore  music,  and  they  like 
good  music,  too.  The  ice  cream  peddler  does  a  thriving 
business,  and  I  fear  so  does  Mike  Kelly  at  the  second 
corner,  for  I  see  in  the  dim  light,  suspicious  glints,  re- 
fracted lights  on  pail  and  pitcher. 

We  have  a  mild  refreshment  ourselves,  when  the  music 
is  over,  which  takes  the  form  of  iced  lemonade  for  us 
women  and  iced  beer  for  the  men.  That  is  Mr.  Gross- 
burg's  doings.  He  is  truly  Germanic  in  his  every 
thought  and  as  kind  as  can  be.  Our  dear  Nosey  certainly 
was  in  luck  when  she  caught  his  heart. 

During  this  hot  weather  I  almost  live  on  milk,  nice, 
creamy  milk  from  the  settlement  shop.  That  is  the  very 
best  bit  of  philanthropy  the  city  has  ever  seen,  that  pure 
milk  depot. 

I  hear  often  from  Ann.  We  make  use  of  everyone 
who  comes  to  see  us  as  messengers  and  send  back  and 
forth  voluminous  letters. 

There  has  been  a  most  decided  let-up  in  the  demand 
for  boxes  and  last  month  I  made  only  ten  dollars,  but  as 
almost  everyone  is  out  of  town  who  buys  that  sort  of 
thing  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  However  I  had  an 
order  for  two  poker  work  trays:  bunch  of  grapes  with 
leaves,  and  oak  branch  with  leaves  and  acorns,  and  I  had 
a  compliment.  Someone  said  that  my  work  came  as  a 
great  relief  after  the  bushels  of  amateurish  stuff. 

293 


CHUMS 

Years  ago  when  I  was  an  occasional  patron  of  "wom- 
an's exchanges"  always  there  was  something  pathetic  to 
me  in  their  exhibits.  I  sensed  the  histories  back  of  it  all, 
and  when  things  were  particularly  awful,  and  occasion- 
ally they  were,  I  felt  like  weeping.  How  little  I  thought 
then  that  the  day  would  come  when  I  should  be  one  of 
those  who  "made  things  for  the  W.  E."  Well,  if  none 
of  them  are  more  unhappy  than  I,  no  one  need  waste  a 
tear  on  them. 

I  have  a  warm  sort  of  feeling  around  my  heart  when  I 
think  of  my  little  fifty-odd  a  month.  Now,  if  I  did  not 
have  that, — ah!  things  might  look  a  trifle  blue. 

Poor  Midge  has  felt  the  heat  so  that  I  have  clipped  her 
and  although  she  is  undoubtedly  far  more  comfortable 
and  that  pink  tongue  of  hers  does  not  wave  to  the  breeze 
quite  so  much,  her  vanity  is  sorely  tried  and  she  has  not 
quite  forgiven  me  for  making  her  comfortable  at  the  ex- 
pense of  her  beauty.  Everyone  upon  catching  a  glimpse 
of  her  for  the  first  time,  goes  into  convulsions  of  laugh- 
ter. She  does  look  droll.  She  is  quite  bow  legged,  some- 
thing we  never  suspected  with  the  long  coat  on,  and  such 
a  tiny,  queer  little  body  with  a  queer  bump,  like  a  York- 
shire terrier.  I  laugh  myself.  So  she  is  sulking  hard, 
and  at  the  sound  of  a  strange  footstep,  she  hides.  I  never 
saw  such  intelligence.  Jennie  Wren  is  the  only  one  who 
has  not  laughed  at  her  and  Midge  knows  it. 

Jennie,  by  the  way,  has  refused  Jimmy.  Would  not 
tell  me  she  did  not  care  for  him,  only  that  she  did  not 
think  such  a  woman  as  she  had  any  right  to  marry,  and 
just  would  not  be  talked  to  about  it.  So,  fearing  to  lose 
her  if  I  persisted,  I  gave  up. 

Jimmy  feels  badly,  but  he  is  just  as  dear  and  thought- 
ful as  ever,  although  not  so  spontaneously  merry. 

A  week  ago  Mary  Tobin  came  in  to  say  goodbye.  She 
is  off  to  the  mountains  with  Estrella,  the  baby,  for  a 
month.  Incidentally,  she  has  taken  three  poor  young 
mothers  with  her.  She  is  the  best,  or  one  of  the  best 

294 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

women  I  ever  knew,  and  so  matter  of  fact  about  it  all. 
She  has  a  little  farm,  left  to  her  by  some  relative,  in 
New  Hampshire  and  usually  some  poor  souls  she  has 
come  across  who  need  a  chance  to  get  well  or  strong,  or 
just  in  tune  with  things,  are  camping  out  there. 

The  dear  little  Duchess  passed  out  two  weeks  ago  and 
all  of  the  settlement  workers  are  heartbroken.  Such  a 
funeral  was  never  seen.  I  just  had  a  good  weep  myself, 
for  of  all  the  lovely  women  she  was  the  loveliest.  She 
had  wished  to  be  cremated  when  her  time  came,  believ- 
ing that  the  spirit  suffered  less  in  its  severance  from  the 
body  if  the  body  was  quickly  disintegrated,  and  was 
more  quickly  freed  by  fire.  She  was  an  old,  old  woman 
and  prepared  to  go,  but  oh,  I  am  so  sorry  that  she  has 
gone. 

Today  I  felt  a  queer  prickling  sensation  at  the  base  of 
my  spine.  I  wonder  what  that  means?  I  had  a  heart 
jump  for  a  second,  at  the  thought  that  it  might  mean 
renewed  health,  but  when  I  tried  to  see  if  there  was  any 
sensation  in  my  leg,  I  found  it  as  ever  a  dead  thing. 

OCT.  5TH,— Five  weeks  since  I  last  wrote  in  my  diary 
and  I  thought  at  one  time  I  never  should  do  so  again. 
Following  out  the  old  proverb  "It  never  rains,"  etc.,  all 
sorts  of  things  have  occurred  to  me  physically,  financially 
and  emotionally.  As  the  financial  looms  biggest,  I  '11  put 
it  down  first. 

I  was  sitting  on  my  balcony  one  day  as  usual,  the  date 
September  5th,  I'll  never  forget  it,  when  the  postman 
handed  me  a  bunch  of  mail  with  the  wish  that  the  letters 
had  good  news  in  them.  There  was  one  fat  one  from 
Thirla;  one  from  Mr.  Wellman;  one  from  Mary  Tobin; 
and  a  fourth,  handwriting  unknown.  That  I  opened 
first,  and  veritably  'tis  a  bolt  from  the  clear  sky  that 
strikes  one.  It  was  a  notice  that  the  President  of  the 
H.  and  N.  H.  Bank  had  committed  suicide  and  that  they 
had  discovered  that  he  had  appropriated  the  Bank's 

295 


CHUMS 

funds  and  securities  to  a  huge  amount.  All  of  which 
from  a  purely  benevolent  outlook  would  be  "too  bad," 
but  when  one's  poor  little  all  is  amongst  said  securities, 
and  one  is  crippled  and  pretty  good-for-nothing  physi- 
cally and  yet  really  wants  to  live,  it  is  a  shock. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  fainted  or  just  dreamed 
awhile,  for  the  next  I  knew  the  shadows  were  getting 
long,  and  Nosey  coming  to  have  tea  with  me  found  me, 
as  she  thought,  dead. 

But  dear  me,  no !  very  much  alive  was  I  when  finally  I 
could  get  back  to  earth  and  things  mundane,  and  I  re- 
lieved my  mind  in  good  round  terms  anent  bank  presi- 
dents who  made  'way  with  other  folks'  property,  until 
the  remembrance  came  to  me  of  what  he  had  made  'way 
with  of  his  own, — his  life !  Then  I  said  no  more. 

The  next  week  was  one  of  mixed  emotions.  I  ran  the 
gamut  from  absolute,  abject  fear  of  the  penniless  future 
to  an  exaltation  of  courage  that  made  me  fairly  drunk. 
Only  touched  the  happy  medium  on  Saturday,  almost  a 
week  after,  when  I  downed  my  fears  and  decided  that 
from  the  great  Universal  Storehouse  I  could  draw  to 
myself  sufficient  to  keep  me  in  the  simple  way  I  demand- 
ed, if  I  would  only  believe  sufficiently  and  visualize 
strongly  enough.  So,  as  I  had  determined  that  my 
"means"  was  to  be  my  work  for  the  woman's  exchange, 
I  brought  to  my  mind  the  picture  of  crowds  of  well 
dressed  women  pressing  about  the  counter  buying  boxes 
of.  every  conceivable  kind,  shape  and  material;  trays 
ditto,  and  painted  menus,  panels  and  scrap  baskets,  all 
the  work  my  own,— buying,  buying,  buying.  And  that 
picture  I  visualize  at  least  four  times  during  the  twenty- 
four  hours.  In  the  meantime  I  am  working  hard  to  have 
a  good  supply  of  articles  finished  for  the  holiday  trade, 
at  which  time  I  think  my  demand  upon  the  Universal 
will  be  answered. 

My  rent  is  paid  (in  furniture)  up  to  Feb.  so  really 
there  is  nothing  to  worry  about,  and  as  I  firmly  believe 

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THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

that  I  shall  be  able  to  earn  my  living  I  do  not  intend  to 
act  as  though  I  did  not  by  doing  any  differently  from 
what  I  have  done. 

The  expense  account  is  really  not  very  staggering.  I 
will  put  down  last  month's  just  as  a  sample.  Of  course 
in  winter  I  must  add  at  least  six  dollars  for  coal  and 
wood. 

Meat,  Flour,  Butter,  Eggs,  Sundries     .    $10.00 
Tea,  lb.  Formosa  Oolong  .        .  1.00 

Coffee,  lb 40 

Milk, 3.00 

Extras, 1.00 

$15.40 

That  covers  absolutely  all  my  expense  for  materials  for 
meals.  Then  for  some  of  my  cooking  and  for  my  drop- 
light  I  use  gas,  which  makes  another  three  dollars,  so 
that  twenty  dollars  really  more  than  covers  my  living 
expenses  and  my  washing.  I  do  all  of  my  small  wash- 
ing myself  and,  as  we  are  all  poor  together  down  here,  I 
hang  it  to  dry  on  my  balcony,  in  nice  weather,  where  the 
sun  does  its  work  quickly  and  well.  In  bad  weather  I 
just  hold  on  to  my  patience  and  wait  a  day  or  two,  not 
being  absolutely  devoted  to  Monday  as  washday. 

My  half-dozen  magazines  I  carefully  take  to  pieces, 
keeping  any  articles  I  want  to  re-read  by  stitching  the 
sheets  and  putting  them  into  a  cover.  The  others  I  like- 
wise stitch  and  cover  and  send  to  the  Salvation  Army 
rooms  across  the  street,  or  to  the  Sunshine  Society. 

As  I  had  made  a  club  list  last  year  most  of  my  maga- 
zines are  paid  for  up  to  Jan.  Then,  well  by  then  I  can 
put  my  hand  into  my  pocketbook  and  pay  again.  I 
know  I  can. 

The  second  week  after  I  had  heard  of  the  loss  of  my 
small  "moneys"  one  day  I  felt  that  same  peculiar  sen- 

297 


CHUMS 

sation  of  warmth  and  prickling  at  the  base  of  my  spine, 
and  as  it  recurred  during  the  succeeding  days  often,  I 
sent  a  note  to  Dr.  Holding,  asking  him  to  come  to  me 
when  he  could. 

He  came  and  I  told  him  about  it.  He  tapped  and 
sounded,  pinched  and  twisted  me  until  he  hurt  me  and 
I  said  "Oh!"  At  which  he  said,  "Where  did  I  hurt 
you?" 

I  told  him  and  he  proceeded  to  do  it  again.  Whereat 
I  objected  strenuously  and  he  then  told  me  that  for  some 
quite  unaccountable  reason  circulation  was  beginning  in 
the  bad  leg  and  thigh  and  that  there  was  just  a  chance 
that  I  might  get  back  the  use  of  them  and  of  my  back, 
which,  though  not  so  bad,  as  bad  backs  go,  still  is  noth- 
ing to  brag  about. 

I  just  yelled  with  delight  and  thanked  my  stars  that  I 
had  those  legs  to  get  renewed  circulation  in.  Suppose 
they  or  one  of  them  had  been  taken  off  as  poor  Ann's 
was. 

The  doctor  says  that  what  looks  like  a  miracle  is  noth- 
ing but  my  resolute  determination  to  do  for  myself  in 
every  way  possible,  which  has  kept  up  a  certain  amount 
of  activity.  This  reaching  up  and  down  and  over  was 
the  best  thing  imaginable.  And  then  this  recent  stirring 
up  I've  had,  aided. 

I  looked  a  bit  stubborn  there  and  the  Dr.  laughed  and 
said,— 

"My  dear  Hilda,  would  you  not  give  up  several  times 
fifty  a  month  to  get  back  to  your  health  ? ' ' 

"Of  course  I  would.  But  because  my  back  tickles  and 
my  flesh  rebels  when  you  twist  it  does  not  absolutely 
prove  that  my  legs  are  going  to  be  good  serviceable  ones 
again, ' '  I  retorted. 

"All  right.  Wait  and  see.  Possibly  that  is  the  best 
way  to  do. ' ' 

Whereat  I,  womanlike,  turned  about  and  was  all  for 
hoping  the  best. 

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That  was  a  month  ago.  So  far  no  very  remarkable 
improvement.  Only  yesterday  my  littlest  toe  itched  and 
tickled  like  mad.  I  had  to  call  Nosey  to  come  and  scratch 
it  for  me. 

About  five  weeks  ago  I  had  a  letter  from  Thirla  :— 

"CROSS  ROADS. 

I  have  thought  over  my  plan,  dear  chum,  and  it  seems 
good  to  me.  This  is  it: — 

"When  the  summer  comes,  the  early  summer,  say  June, 
let  us  go  to  the  seashore,  you  and  Ann  and  I,  together. 
Now  don 't  make  big  eyes,  as  the  children  say,  wait  until 
you  hear. 

My  aunt,  the  Boston  one  who  wanted  me  to  remain 
with  her  at  my  father 's  death,  has  recently  died  and  left 
me  her  summer  home  on  the  Maine  coast  near  Bangor. 
It  is  only  an  old  fashioned  farmhouse,  but  comfortable 
and  roomy.  I  remember  it  well,  for  we  spent  our  vaca- 
tions there.  And  I  loved  it. 

The  farm  just  about  keeps  itself,  with  a  trifle  over, 
and  has  a  dear  old  couple  to  look  after  it.  As  long  as 
they  live  they  are  to  have  the  use  of  the  farm.  So  here 
I  am,  the  so-called  owner  of  a  farm  I  cannot  sell,  cannot 
rent,  cannot,  in  fact,  do  anything  but  live  on. 

The  Aunt  left  me,  likewise,  two  thousand  dollars  and 
the  advice  "not  to  be  stubborn,  but  to  give  up  that  wild 
land  (meaning  the  region  about  the  Cross  Roads)  and  go 
and  be  comfortable  at  Pine  Tree  Farm. ' ' 

Now,  will  you  both  be  my  guests  for  five  months  next 
year  and  let  me  pay  for  your  trip  to  and  from  there? 
Possibly,  if  we  all  are  happy,  you  might  make  it  a  year 
and  see  me  through  the  bleak  Maine  winter,  or  I  might 
go  back  to  New  York  with  you  and  we  all  have  rooms 
on  the  same  floor  at  Mrs.  Grossburg's. 

I  am  taking  it  for  granted  that  you  will  say  yes  and 
I  find  myself  making  plans  for  the  lovely  summer  days 
when  we  can  be  out  on  the  beach  all  day. 

299 


CHUMS 

I  shall  take  Winnie,  the  old  Indian  woman  who  has 
been  my  particular  guardian  angel  all  of  these  years. 
And  Mrs.  Thomas,  at  the  farm,  will  supply  in  the  per- 
son of  a  nice,  strong  young  niece  of  hers,  the  maid  for 
you  and  Ann.  You  two  are  such  superior  persons  with 
your  crutches  and  activity  that  you  do  not  need  what  I 
do. 

I  am  so,  so  happy  at  the  possibility  of  seeing  you  two 
dear  women,  that  I  am  like  a  different  person.  Oh,  my 
dears,  my  dears,  I  was  a  lonely  woman  until  you  two 
came  into  my  life. 

The  chance  to  carry  out  such  a  plan,  of  course,  came 
only  with  aunt's  death,  but  I  hope  she  knows  how  great 
a  joy  this  will  be  to  me,  and  someway  I  fancy  she  does. 

To  get  through  this  coming  winter  will  be  the  rub.  I 
must  be  busy  every  minute,  so  that  I  can  by  May  5th 
be  ready  to  go  to  Pine  Tree  Farm. 

In  my  next  letter  I  will  tell  you  about  it.  I  have  some 
old  photographs,  taken  oh!  years  and  years  ago,  but 
Mr.  Thomas  tells  me  that  the  saplings  are  now  great  trees 
and  that  the  old  stones  of  the  house  are  nearly  covered 
with  ivy  and  creepers,  for  it  is  in  a  deep  dip  of  land  and 
sheltered  beautifully  on  three  sides  by  the  woods,  with 
the  ocean  in  front. 

Yours  in  great  happiness, 

THIRLA. 

P.  S.  I  suppose  to  a  possessor  of  a  great  country 
house  the  small  Maine  farm  would  not  seem  much,  would 
it?  But  the  happiness  the  thing  has  brought  to  me  is 
beyond  words." 

Then  I  had  a  letter  from  Ann.     Here  it  is. 

"Hilda  dear,  Doubtless  you  have  had  a  letter  from 
Thirla. 

Can't  you  smell  the  salt  of  the  breeze  and  the  pine  of 
the  woods?  I  can.  And  I  have  a  very  clear  picture  of 

300 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

us  three  out  on  the  beach  under  big  umbrellas  with  our 
luncheons,  a  book,  and  our  work,  talking,  working,  read- 
ing the  long  summer  days  through.  Can't  you  hear  the 
cow  bells  at  evening  when  the  cows  come  home  along  the 
lane?  Can't  you  taste  the  fresh  milk?  Can  you  not 
fancy  sleeping  out  at  night  somewhere  where  all  of  the 
sweet  night  scents  of  pine  and  sea  and  earth  wrap  one 
around  ? 

Yes,  decidedly, — I  for  one  will  not  be  too  proud  to 
accept  that  invitation,  but  I  wonder  if  it  really  can  be! 
The  day  for  such  joys  I  fancied  was  over  for  me.  How 
little  we  know,  and  the  funny  thing  about  it  is,  that  all 
this  past  summer,  during  the  fiercely  hot  days  and  hotter 
nights,  just  such  a  picture  haunted  me.  I  saw  it  all  so 
clearly  that  I  could  forget  the  smells  and  dirt  and  dis- 
comfort of  the  Alley  and  actually  live  at  that  other  place. 

I  want  to  say  a  word  here  about  your  lost  dollars.  I 
was  so  sorry  for  you,  for  the  feeling  of  comfort  an  in- 
come, no  matter  its  amount,  gives,  is  hard  to  realize  un- 
til the  income  takes  wings.  Poor  dear!  But  you  have 
certainly  taken  the  right  attitude. 

Your  theory  of  'visualization'  interests  me.  What  is 
the  book  you  referred  to  in  your  last  letter?  Can  it  be 
obtained  at  the  library?  If  so,  I  will  ask  Martha  Hold- 
ing to  get  it  for  me.  You  see  I  allow  all  of  these  dear 
people  to  'obtain  merit'  through  me.  They  most  cheer- 
fully run  errands  for  me,  bless  'em ! 

I  won't  write  any  more  just  now,  for  I  gave  my  arm 
a  terrific  knock  today  and  it  feels  queer. 

Yours, 

ANN/' 

I  have  just  finished  a  most  delightful  book  of  Francois 
Coppee's.  What  charm  he  has.  After  the  more  or  less 
psychological  and  analytical  novels  one  reads  to  take  up 
books  like  his  Les  Vrais  Riches  and  Toute  Jeunesse  puts 
one  in  a  mood  to  believe  that  "all  certainly  is  good  in 

301 


CHUMS 

this  best  possible  of  worlds,"  that  there  is  "tenderness 
and  truth,  loyalty  and  deep  affection."  As  there  is. 
Who  knows  that  better  than  I  do? 

The  weather  is  as  usual  ' '  very  unusual  for  the  time  of 
year, ' '  so  mild,  so  summerlike,  that  we  all  as  a  neighbor- 
hood still  patronize  the  front  steps  and  curbs.  I  still 
just  about  live  on  my  little  balcony.  My!  but  I  shall 
miss  it  when  winter  comes. 

A  week  or  so  ago  the  Salvation  Army  woman,  she  of 
the  sweet  smile,  came  over  to  thank  me  for  some  booklets 
I  had  sent  them  and  we  had  a  most  delightful  talk. 
When  she  left  it  was  four  o'clock,  and  she  laughingly 
said  that  she  should  have  to  order  herself  a  penance  to 
make  up  for  so  much  pleasure.  That  was  no  nice,  and 
she  meant  it  too. 

She  told  me  so  much  I  wanted  to  know  about  philan- 
thropic conditions  and  problems.  She  has  a  tremendous 
admiration  for  Maude  Ballington  Booth  and  she  said 
that  she  believed  that  woman  did  more  actual  good  by 
her  work,  teachings,  life  and  example  than  any  one  hun- 
dred of  the  so-called  leaders  of  the  higher  life ;  of  course 
that  brought  up  a  discussion  as  to  the  values  of  the  vari- 
ous philanthropies,  their  methods  and  results.  T  find 
Captain  Saunders  a  most  intelligent  and  broad  minded 
woman,  a  woman  of  great  common  sense,  and  one  who 
has,  she  tells  me,  come  out  into  the  sunlight  from  the 
very  depths  of  darkness.  I  wonder  what  ?  For  certainly 
there  is  left  no  faintest  shadow.  Her  face  is  placid  and 
comely.  I  like  that  old  fashioned  word. 

There  are  faces  which  show  terrible  traces  of  the  soul 
struggle;  fallen,  broken  tissues;  haggard,  dulled  eyes; 
hair  thinned  away  from  the  face.  Those  faces  are  tragic 
to  me.  There  is  one  such  among  the  Salvation  band 
across  the  way.  I  have  been  haunted  by  it.  Beautiful  it 
has  been.  Beautiful  it  is  today  to  me.  I  must  ask  the 
Captain  about  her. 

The  old  Colonel  and  I,— he,  by  the  way,  is  only  sixty  - 

302 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

six,  I  had  thought  him  many  years  older,— are  become 
great  friends  and  he  drops  in  to  tell  me  his  various  bits 
of  news. 

He  is  a  great  man  to  frequent  the  parks.  Loves  the 
greens  and  quiet  and,  too,  the  sight  of  the  people  who 
go  past.  I  think  the  Colonel  really  is  a  gregarious  chap 
and  this  past  summer  he  had  such  an  experience!  He 
suddenly  discovered  that  his  room  was  alive  with  bed- 
bugs and,  as  he  is  the  very  perfection  of  bodily  cleanli- 
ness, it  distressed  him  fearfully.  The  news  nearly  sent 
Nosey  into  convulsions  of  horror,  for  her  pride  is  her 
clean  house.  So,  after  he  had  confided  his  woes  to  us,  he 
and  Nosey,  armed  with  proper  appliances,  cleaned  that 
room.  The  bed,  an  old  fashioned  wooden  one,  Nosey 
cleaned  thoroughly  and  then  gave  away  to  old  Nanny  the 
apple  woman,  and  bought  a  nice,  clean,  new  enamelled 
one.  Every  rag  of  bed  clothes  and  curtains,  carpet  and 
rug  were  scoured,  all  of  the  floor  and  woodwork  gone 
over,  and  then  the  fear  that  some  might  have  got  away 
and  gone  visiting  so  bothered  Nosey  that  before  she 
rested  from  her  labors  every  room,  closet,  staircase  and 
wall  had  been  cleaned,  and  for  ten  days  we  were  all 
afraid  to  light  a  match  fearing  instantaneous  blowing 
up,  the  fumes  of  coal  oil,  benzine  and  some  other  power- 
ful thing  were  so  strong. 

Midge  was  much  disgusted  and  refused  to  go  into  the 
hall,  and  after  the  second  day  the  Colonel  went  a-visiting 
himself,  fairly  driven  out.  But  he's  back  again.  He  is 
really  a  delightful  old  fellow  and  from  his  tramps  he 
comes  laden  always  with  boughs  and  branches.  Latterly 
it  has  been  leaves  that  were  just  beginning  to  turn,  so 
that  at  all  times  my  room  has  its  suggestion  of  out-of- 
doors. 

Jennie  Wren  had  for  some  time  been  rather  pensive, 
an  unusual  thing  for  her.  I,  thinking  it  the  effect  of 
her  refusal  of  Jimmy,  said  nothing  about  it  and  one  day 
last  week  she  unbosomed  to  me. 

303 


CHUMS 

It  seeins  she  is  worrying  over  a  question  of  ethics. 

There  is  a  girl  in  her  shop  who  appears  to  be  coming 
down  with  consumption,  lungs  badly  affected,  and  the 
doctor  has  ordered  her  off  to  California  before  the  win- 
ter set  in.  Now  the  girl  has  nothing  put  by,  and  an  old 
grandmother  dependent  upon  her,  so  it  looks  as  though 
she  will  just  have  to  stick  to  her  post. 

Jennie,  with  her  consciousness  of  her  eight  hundred 
dollars'  savings  for  that  longed-for  trip,  cannot  be  hap- 
py. Feels  that  she  ought  to  give  it  to  the  girl  to  go  to 
California  with,  and  she  is  making  herself  sick  over  it. 
Through  long,  long  years  this  trip  has  been  her  hope. 
For  it  she  has  saved  and  scrimped,  gone  without  every- 
thing but  barest  necessities,  and  now  that  she  sees  the 
little  pile  of  savings  reaching  the  highwater  mark  of  her 
plan — to  have  this  direct  appeal  to  her  conscience  and 
sentiments  made !  I  did  not,  dared  not  advise,  but  I  just 
had  a  good  weep  after  Jennie  went,  a  weep  for  her,  for 
I  somehow  feel  that  the  trip  will  not  be.  Of  course  I  am 
sorry  for  the  sick  girl  too;  it's  a  great  thing  to  be  able 
to  give  a  soul  its  chance  to  work  out  much  in  this  incar- 
nation, a  privilege — all  that  I  know  in  the  abstract;  but 
the  picture  that  haunts  me  is  the  figure  of  Jenny  com- 
ing along  hippity-hop,  hippity-hop  on  her  crutches.  Her 
poor,  plain  clothes  and  her  lovely  face,  and  her  long, 
long  years  of  saving— Ach!  I  must  give  up  thinking 
over  it.  It  is  a  case  where  'tis  hands  off. 

Nov.  30rH, — Another  few  weeks  without  writing  in  my 
diary.  Lucky  I  never  made  any  promises  to  myself  to 
"write  daily." 

Thanksgiving  we  had  a  jolly  time.  Jennie  and  Jim- 
my, Mr.  Vail  and  I.  Nosey  sent  in  the  turkey,  bursting 
with  stuffing  and  browned  to  perfection.  We  roasted 
our  own  sweet  potatoes  and  we  started  our  spread  with 
stewed  oysters,  deep  sea  boys  in  big  shells  stewed  in  their 


304 


THE  DIARY  OF  A  "SHUT-IN" 

own  juice,  a  contribution  from  Jimmy.  Mr.  Vail  fur- 
nished the  mince  pie,  bought  at  the  woman's  exchange, 
(and  good)  and  a  bottle  of  sherry,  which  we  each  took  a 
glass  of  before  dinner.  The  remainder  I  put  away  to 
send  to  old  Nanny  who  loves  a  bit  of  stimulant,  although 
she  would  much  rather  it  were  gin,  I  fancy. 

It  was  a  proper  Thanksgiving  day,  cold  and  sharp. 
I,  of  course,  know  how  suitable  such  weather  is,  but  I 
cannot  help  thinking  of  the  poor  pinched  faces,  the  red, 
cracked  hands,  the  inadequate  clothing  and  general  mis- 
ery, and  it  seems  selfish  to  be  so  comfortable.  As  usual 
I  have  commenced  at  the  tag  end  of  my  story. 

Well,  about  five  weeks  ago  Jennie  dropped  in  on  her 
way  up  stairs  one  evening  and  I  persuaded  her  to  stay 
for  supper.  I  had  a  ducky  little  pot  of  pork  and  beans 
and  a  baked  pudding. 

After  dinner  she  grew  confidential  and  told  me  that 
she  had  that  day  drawn  out  of  the  bank  six  hundred 
dollars,  bought  tickets  for  the  girl  and  her  grandmother 
to  Los  Angeles,  tourist,  and  given  them  the  remainder 
of  the  money  to  live  on.  They  claimed  that  it  would 
keep  them  easily  a  year,  and  as  the  girl  got  stronger  she 
could  get  some  work.  She  knows  her  trade  and  is  a  good 
seamstress  besides. 

I  drew  a  long  breath  after  Jennie  had  finished  telling 
me.  Then  I  leaned  over  and  hugged  her.  I  could  not 
for  the  life  of  me  say  a  word,  but  she  understood  and  we 
sat  looking  into  the  fire  until  the  Trinity  bells  sung  ten. 

Now  that  was  as  big  a  piece  of  self-abnegation  as  I 
remember  ever  to  have  seen.  And  the  Jennie  girl  is  once 
more  her  old  merry  self.  No  sighing  martyr  to  con- 
science this,  but  a  good  little  fighter  who  won't  let  her 
disappointment  spoil  things  for  herself  or  for  others. 

Had  a  couple  of  letters  from  Thirla,  but  I  can  copy 
only  one  here  as  Ann  borrowed  the  other  and  has  not 
returned  it. 


305 


CHUMS 

"CROSS  ROADS. 

I  was  so  relieved  to  get  your  and  Ann's  letters  saying 
that  yon  would  accept  my  invitation  for  next  summer, 
Hilda  dear,  and  let  us  make  it  May  15th  instead  of  June 
1st.  I  will  leave  here  on  May  1st.  I  wish  I  dared  make 
it  earlier,  but  I  want  it  to  be  well  within  the  grip  of 
summer  when  we  arrive  for  this  first  trip.  Possibly  later 
we  may  have  various  seasons,  for  I  have  the  feeling  that 
the  Pine  Tree  Farm  is  to  harbor  us  often  during  these 
next  years.  My  feeling  amounts  to  a  belief. 

My  sister  and  the  youngsters  lifted  horrified  eyes  at 
the  bare  thought  of  my  attempting  such  a  journey,  but 
I  have  overruled  every  objection  and  with  Winnie  to 
attend  to  me  and  a  strong  armed  young  nephew  to  help 
in  changing  cars,  I  can  do  it  as  easily  as  can  be. 

I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  many  of  us  "shut- 
ins"  let  ourselves  drift  into  more  hopeless  and  helpless 
invalidism  than  is  necessary,  ofttimes,  and  I  do  not  pro- 
pose to  be  one  of  that  number. 

Winter  is  here  again, — not  quite  here,  but  just  beyond 
the  corner.  I  shall  not  mind  it  so  much  this  year  hav- 
ing your  and  Ann's  letters  to  look  forward  to,  and  the 
planning  for  next  summer,  but  I  don't  mind  owning  to 
you  that  for  years  past  I  have  had  a  yearly  fight  to  keep 
my  serenity  and  cheerfulness  during  those  long,  long 
weeks  and  months.  You  would  laugh  at  some  of  my  ex- 
pedients. But  now,  oh,  the  months  will  fly. 

Amongst  other  things  I  am  going  to  make  us  some  per- 
fectly stunning  negligees,  so  that  we  can  be  a  pleasure  to 
each  other 's  eyes. 

Won't  it  be  a  soulful  time  when  we  three  lone,  lorn 
women  meet,  brought  together  so  queerly  f 

Am  very  interested  over  your  little  Jennie  Wren. 
Fancy  giving  up  that  long  planned  trip,  after  saving  for 
ten  years  for  it!  Now,  that  was  really  a  piece  of  hero- 
ism. I  think  you  would  better  ask  her  to  take  her  vaca- 
tion with  us  at  the  farm  next  summer.  There  is  heaps 

306 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IS" 

of  room.  It  is  a  great  old  place  like  the  proverbial  om- 
nibus and  has  attics  a  regiment  could  find  quarters  in. 

I  only  wish  I  could  ask  some  more  people.  It  seems 
selfish  to  have  that  big  place  all  to  ourselves,  when  there 
is  ample  room  and  ample  food  (of  the  plainest  but  so 
good)  to  be  had,  don't  you  think  so?  But  anyway  we 
three  will  first  have  a  full  month  to  get  acquainted  in, 
acquainted  with  the  look  of  each  other  and  the  sound  of 
each  other.  Other  acquaintance  we  have. 

I  am  in  a  sort  of  exalted  mood,  'strung-up'  my  prac- 
tical sister  calls  it  and  threatens  nerves  and  breakdown. 
I  know  differently.  Never  felt  better  in  all  my  long 
years  of  laid-upness. 

Our  new  barn  is  finished  and  the  new  wagon-sheds, 
looking  very  brave  in  their  coat  of  clean  red  paint.  Red 
barns  are  de  rigor  out  here.  They  are  the  spot  of  cheer- 
fulness on  the  landscape,  when  said  landscape  consists 
principally  of  lead  colored  sky  and  snow  covered  ground, 
with  a  line  of  dark,  mournful  green  woodland  in  the 
distance;  that  lasts  days  and  weeks,  only  changing  in 
gradation  of  lead  color. 

Likewise,  there  is  a  fine  new  pump  and  trough  painted 
a  vivid  green.  That  was  the  doing  of  one  of  my  neph- 
ews whose  sense  of  color  is  queer,  and  the  joke  comes  in 
in  the  fact  that  he  thought  it  blue.  However,  it  gives 
a  sort  of  Dutch  effect  to  the  landscape  and  is  eminently 
cheerful. 

It  looks  very  much  as  though  two  of  our  young  people 
would  set  up  homes  of  their  own  very  soon  and  I  shall 
urge  that  the  weddings  be  arranged  for  April,  some- 
where about  the  last,  then  I  can  slip  away  May  1st,  on 
the  tag  end  of  the  domestic  cyclone. 

We  are  going  to  have  a  regular  old  fashioned  Christ- 
mas this  year.  The  sisters  and  brothers  of  the  two  who 
are  soon  to  marry  our  girls  are  coming  for  a  week.  Six 
in  one  family,  four  in  another;  that  added  to  our  lot,  ten, 
and  eleven  sometimes,  brings  it  up  to  twenty.  Quite  a 

307 


CHUMS 

family  to  feed.  So  there  will  be  great  fattening  of  tur- 
keys and  ducks  and  geese  and  much  making  of  apple 
butter,  mince-meat  and  suet  puddings,  old  fashioned  gin- 
ger bread  and  molasses  cake  and  a  cake  called  pork  cake, 
—not  an  appetizing  name,  but  a  most  delectable  cake. 
The  work  won't  be  increased,  for  out  in  this  country  all 
of  the  youngsters  are  taught  to  do  their  share  and  so  the 
visitors  will  for  the  nonce  be  the  family  and  Work  with 
them. 

Evenings  there  will  be  great  larks.  The  carpet  has 
been  taken  up  in  the  parlor  and  the  boys  are  shaving 
wax  candles  over  the  floor  and  then  dancing.  After  a 
week  of  that  the  floor  will  be  like  glass.  The  fire-board 
will  be  taken  out  of  the  great  chimney-place  and  the  big 
opening  will  have  its  andirons  and  tongs,  bellows  and 
shovel,  and  there  will  be  fires  that  will  warm  the  big 
room  to  its  uttermost  corners. 

The  piano  is  a  trifle  tin-panny,  but  after  eight  young- 
sters have  for  thrice  that  number  of  years  thumped  on 
it,  could  one  expect  otherwise  ? 

The  big  square  bed-rooms,  each  with  its  one  or  two 
four-post  bedsteads  in  it,  and  the  big  wardrobes  and 
spindle-legged  dressing-tables  will  be  filled  to  overflow- 
ing. Some  will  have  to  sleep  in  straw-filled  ticks  upon 
the  floor. 

All  day  at  intervals  come  gusts  of  hot  spicy  fragrance 
from  the  kitchen,  for  it  is  getting  ready  for  Thanksgiv- 
ing and  although  we  will  make  this  but  a  light  feast  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  Christmas  is  to  be  such  an  orgy, 
still  it  must  have  its  fitting  celebration.  We  dwellers  on 
the  outer  edges  of  life  cling  more  faithfully  to  the  old 
habits.  We  never  become  surfeited  with  too  much  so- 
cial life  and  so  when  any  legitimate  excuse  offers,  such 
as  birthdays,  New  Year's,  Thanksgiving  and  Christmas, 
we  seize  them  and  ride  our  forty  and  twenty  and  even 
sixty  miles  to  be  with  our  kind. 

My  sister  is  sending  you  a  barrel  of  home  goodies. 

308 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

They   go  today.     There   is  something   inside  for  Mrs. 
Grossburg,  with  my  love. 

Yours, 

THIRLA." 

And  I  had  a  letter  from  Ann  I  must  put  in. 

"DEAR  HILDA  WOMAN,— 

I  want  to  have  a  little  Christmas  in  our  tenement  this 
year  and  will  you  help  with  the  work  ? 

I  know  that  you  are  awfully  busy  but  I  also  know  that 
you  contemplate  doing  some  net  candy  mittens  and 
stockings  for  the  settlement  so  I  am  going  to  be  selfish 
and  ask  you  to  do  it  for  me  instead. 

- 1  've  planned  the  jolliest  kind  of  a  time,  one  that  will 
live  in  the  annals  of  Cat  Alley.  I  am  tired  of  its  having 
a  reputation  only  for  fights  and  murders  and  now  that  I 
have  made  friends  with  so  many  of  the  people  and  they 
seem  to  like  me  I  am  going  to  use  that  influence  to  make 
the  poor  things,  for  once,  have  a  decent,  sane  and  home- 
like day. 

You  remember  my  telling  you  of  a  Mrs.  Hockins  and 
a  Mrs.  Beatty  who,  when  they  were  not  throwing  pails 
of  slops  over  each  other,  were  tearing  each  other's  hair 
out  by  the  handful  ?  Well,  I  have  got  them  to  head  my 
committee  and  share  the  responsibility  of  orderliness  in 
halls  and  rooms,  and  this  is  how  I  did  it.  Mrs.  Hockins 
had  come  in  to  bring  me  a  roast  sweet  potato  the  other 
night  and  as  usual,  after  a  minute,  she  got  the  conversa- 
tion around  to  the  misdoings  of  our  neighbor,  Mrs. 
Beatty,  and  she  showed  me  her  head  where  the  hair  had 
literally  been  torn  out.  I  said  'yes,  Mrs.  Beatty  told  me 
about  it,  and  she  said  after  she  had  gone  back  to  her 
room  she  couldn't  take  her  eyes  off  the  chunk  of  hair,  it 
was  so  pretty.  So,  not  liking  to  throw  it  away,  she  put 
it  up  on  her  chest  of  drawers,  under  her  glass  globe/ 
Mrs.  Hockins  got  as  red,  almost,  as  the  color  of  her 
gorgeous  hair. 

309 


CHUMS 

1  Glory  be ! '  she  said,  '  why  the  poor  creature,  did  she, 
now!'  and  I  could  see  that  the  thing  had  made  a  deep 
impression  on  her,  for  Mrs.  Beatty's  glass  globe  is  the 
marvel  of  the  house  and  the  neighborhood  and  takes  the 
place  of  a  cabinet.  All  her  treasures  go  under  it. 

Then,  next  day  as  Mrs.  Beatty  came  in  to  borrow  a 
couple  of  handfuls  of  coal  and  commenced  telling  me  of 
the  latest  quarrel  with  Mrs.  Hockins  I  told  her  what 
Mary  Hockins  had  said  one  day  after  one  of  their  fights, 
when  she  was  relating  to  me  how  she  had  knocked  out 
two  of  Jane  Beatty's  teeth,— 

'That  it  was  a  real  pity,  so  it  was.  Such  elegant, 
white,  sound  teeth.  None  could  near  'em  in  the  Alley.' 
Whereat  Mrs.  Beatty  put  her  hand  up  to  her  mouth 
where  the  two  gaps  in  her  teeth  were,  and  said,— 'Now, 
will  you  listen  to  that'  and  looked  as  gratified  as  could 
be. 

Yesterday  at  six  I  was  going  to  get  my  kettle  filled  at 
the  hall  faucet  when  I  saw  Mrs.  Beatty  carrying  what 
looked  suspiciously  like  'the  can'  into  Mrs.  Hockins 's 
room  and  later  there  was  much  merriment  and  a  strong 
odor  of  fried  onions  and  liver,  so  I  know  that  the  enmity 
is  a  thing  of  the  past.  But  is  it  not  funny?  I  laugh 
every  time  I  think  of  it,  and  yet  each  had  said  the  one 
nice  thing,  so  I  could  repeat  it. 

Now  this  is  my  plan.  The  top  floor,  just  above  me  is 
a  big,  low-ceiled  floor  and  it  only  has  two  tenants.  We 
are  going  to  decorate  it  with  greens,  heaps  of  greens.  I 
have  got  Mike  Hill  and  Jimmie  Ootings  to  promise  to 
take  their  clan  over  to  Jersey  and  get  the  evergreens  and 
berries.  I  have  a  permit  from  Mr.  Ferguson  for  en- 
trance to  their  land.  And  then  we  are  going  to  have  a 
huge  Christmas  tree,  also  from  Mrs.  Ferguson. 

Everyone  who  can  work  will  be  given  a  task,  so  that  a 
sense  of  proprietary  interest  will  be  felt.  The  youngsters 
will  pop  the  corn  and  fill  the  mittens,  and  string  the 
corn  for  the  garlands.  For  the  spangly  trimmings  I 

310 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

have  the  next  in  size  already  interested.  What  girl,  or 
boy,  for  that  matter,  ever  could  refrain  from  working 
with  bright  silver  and  tinsel  paper?  And  I've  a  whole 
bushel  of  the  biggest,  reddest  apples,  ready  to  be  pol- 
ished and  hung  up,  and  I  shall  have  at  the  right  time 
enough  oranges  to  go  'round,  and  a  few  over.  The  can- 
dles I  shall  ask  donations  for. 

Every  one  in  the  house  is  to  lend  any  and  everything 
in  the  way  of  dishes  for  the  Christmas  dinner-table  and 
contribute  anything  he  or  she  or  they  can,  if  it  is  but  a 
handful  of  sweet  potatoes. 

The  turkeys  are  promised,  eight  of  them,  all  cooked 
and  piping  hot  from  the  settlement  kitchen.  (The  work- 
ers, you  see,  applaud  my  idea.)  And  the  cranberry 
sauce  is  a  donation  from  a  country  friend.  Likewise, 
pies  of  all  kinds  and  conditions. 

The  house  people  will,  for  probably  the  very  first  time 
in  their  lives,  have  the  feeling  that  it  is  a  home  festivity. 

Of  course,  I  shall  fill  in  better  than  I  have  written. 
This  is  but  the  outline  of  my  plan.  There  shall  be  'lash- 
ins  and  larins '  of  coffee  well  sweetened  and  creamed,  and 
of  tea.  No  other  beverage.  And  after  the  dinner  is  over 
and  the  Christmas  tree  is  enjoyed  I  have  a  stereopticon 
entertainment  for  them.  I  borrow  for  the  night  the  out- 
fit of  an  old  friend. 

Now,  will  you  make  those  mittens  and  stockings? 
Catch  the  edges  with  thick  crimson  wool,  so  they  will 
look  festive. 

I  am  going  to  have  this  house  a  house  where  there  is 
no  fighting,  where  the  inmates  take  a  pride  in  it,— first 
step  towards  that  was  when  I  got  them  to  keep  their 
stairs  and  hall  clean,— and  where,  even  though  we  be  so 
poor  that  we  often  have  but  a  baked  potato  and  pinch 
of  salt  for  a  meal,  yet  be  we  decent,  self-respecting  folk. 

Next  year  I  shall  have  this  same  Christmas  doings, 
and  every  single  thing  shall  come  from  ourselves.  No 
charity.  You  '11  see ! " 

311 


CHUMS 

I  spoke  to  Mary  Tobin  about  Ann 's  plan  and  she  said 
that  it  was  good  and  that  what  Ann  had  accomplished  in 
the  year  that  she  had  lived  there  was  wonderful,  that  the 
people  in  the  house  went  to  her  for  sympathy  and  advice 
in  every  crisis  of  their  lives. 

Mary  Tobin  has  changed  so  greatly.  She  has  grown 
so  much  softer,  lost  a  lot  of  that  rather  assertive  man- 
ner. I  told  her  so  and  she  laughed  good  naturedly. 

"It's  the  baby,  my  dear,"  she  answered.  "Having 
that  blessed  mite  has  done  all  sorts  of  wonderful  things 
for  me.  Why,  if  she  were  really  my  very  own  I  could 
not  love  her  more."  Nice  woman,  Mary. 

I  see  by  the  date  that  it  is  ten  days  over  a  year  since  I 
started  my  diary.  I  wish  now  that  I  had  kept  it  more 
faithfully  for  such  a  number  of  things  that  I  have  for- 
gotten to  put  down  have  occurred,  and  I  do  not  want  to 
forget  them. 

DEC.  28TH, — All  of  my  boxes,  trays  and  scrap  baskets 
sold,  which  has  given  me  courage  to  face  this  next  year's 
incomeless  condition.  With  necessity,  has  grown  my  in- 
ventive faculty.  I  really  was  rather  proud  of  my  pretty 
truck,  and  it  was  all  beautifully  well  done.  Not,  dis- 
tinctly not  amateurish,  but  very  craftsmanlike.  So  I 
can  see  the  wolf  turning  tail  and  disconsolately  moving 
on,  thanks  be ! 

It  has  been  the  busiest  time  I  can  remember,  every  sec- 
ond utilized,  and  the  consequence  is  much  accomplished 
in  various  ways.  Beside  the  net  mittens  and  stockings, 
of  which  we  made  and  filled  with  candy  and  popcorn  two 
hundred,  I  did  some  sewing.  This  time  it  was  dressing 
dolls.  Mrs.  Ferguson  had  contributed  three  hundred 
dolls  and  the  material  for  clothes.  We  turned  out  babies, 
brides,  travelling  spinsters  and  some  of  the  dearest  old 
grannies.  I  painted  some  lines  on  their  faces  and  re- 
placed the  wigs  with  gray  hair  and  caps  and  painted 
spectacles  on  them,  and  they  were  quite  evidently  the 

312 


THE  DIARY  OF  A   "SHUT-IN" 

favorites.  That  was  quite  a  work,  but  Jennie  Wren 
helped  with  the  dolls,  and  Jimmy  and  Mr.  Vail  with  the 
popcorn  and  the  mittens,  so  we  were  all  ready  and  wait- 
ing with  our  contribution  when  the  boys  came  for  them. 

Then  I  have  been  given  a  great  delight :  Mr.  Grossburg 
has  had  my  little  balcony  glassed  in,  so  I  can  have  some 
plants  in  it  and  on  sunny  days  I  can  sit  out  there,  for 
the  glass  holds  the  heat  astonishingly,  and  it  is  so  cheer- 
ful to  be  able  to  see  all  of  the  bustle  of  the  street. 

We  have  three  new  little  shops  opposite,  bright,  clean 
little  places.  One  with  all  kinds  of  Italian  food  stuffs, 
is  most  artistically  arranged,  and  directly  next  is  a  fruit 
and  vegetable  shop,  and  next  that  a  macaroni  shop.  I 
never  realized  how  many  varieties  of  macaroni  there 
were,  or  how  variously  tinted.  The  very  day  after  the 
shop  had  opened  and  its  window  was  arranged  I  became 
macaroni  hungry;  I  sent  for  some  of  the  deep,  butter- 
colored  kind,  I  made  with  it  a  dish  I  had  long  ago 
learned  to  make,  and  that  night  Jennie  took  supper  with 
me  and  we  ate  every  morsel  of  it,  with  a  couple  of  baked 
apples  for  dessert,  and  felt  as  satisfied  as  though  we  had 
eaten  a  seven-course  dinner. 

We  find  that  Mr.  Grossburg  is  a  most  kindly  and  in- 
telligent man,  well  read  in  all  of  the  authors  we  care  for. 
So  after  our  regular  music  is  finished  there  is  always  a 
little  spread  and  much  cheerful  talk,  and  when  we  sep- 
arate for  the  night  each  realizes  a  sense  of  its  having  been 
well  worth  while.  Dear  old  Nosey  is  as  happy  as  can 
be  and  mothers  the  two  little  step-daughters  to  her 
heart's  content.  I  shall  miss  them  all  when  the  day 
comes  for  them  to  move,  but  I  am  more  and  more  getting 
into  a  way  of  self-dependence — only  my  bath.  That  is  as 
yet  the  great  difficulty  and  I  must  have  a  clean  body, 
though  I  be  crippled  and  poor.  My  little  Jennie  Wren 
is  a  joy  to  me,  she  is  so  daintily  fresh  and  clean  always. 
Ann  Clancy  is,  too,  and  how  she  can  live  in  Cat  Alley ! 
and  do  what  she  does— be  really  intimate  with  those  poor 

313 


things — is  a  marvel  to  me,  but  her  very  example  has  done 
wonders,  Mary  Tobin  tells  me,  just  as  did  that  of  the 
little  Duchess.  In  fact,  it  would  almost  seem  that  the 
little  Duchess  is  to  have  a  fitting  successor  in  Ann. 

Mary  brought  Estrella  to  see  me,  and  it  was  a  sight  to 
see  Mary  with  the  baby.  All  of  the  motherhood  that  lies 
dormant  in  most  women's  natures,  is  to  the  fore  and 
Mary's  strong,  rather  heavy  face  has  become  beautiful. 
Queer  things,  we  women. 

The  barrel  of  farm  goodies  came  duly  and  I  sent  half 
of  everything  to  Ann  and  then  gave  half  of  my  share 
away  to  various  of  our  house  folk.  Everything  tastes  so 
good  and  comes  as  a  great  treat  after  market-bought 
things. 

The  strange  itching  and  tickling  goes  on  and  I  can 
now  move  two  toes.  I  am  almost  afraid  to  hope,  but  oh ! 
if  it  should  mean  even  partial  recovery,  just  enough  so 
that  I  can  get  about  on  crutches,  what  thankfulness  I 
shall  feel !  Just  enough  so  that  I  need  not  be  dependent 
upon  anyone  for  anything. 

Mary  Tobin  reproved  me  today  for  saying  that.  She 
said  it  seemed  to  her  that,  by  that  attitude,  I  was  creat- 
ing a  limitation.  So  now  I  am  going  to  affirm  absolute 
health,  then  see  what  occurs.  In  the  meantime,  I  shall 
keep  extremely  busy  trying  to  help  myself. 

Jennie  Wren  has  heard  from  the  consumptive  girl 
whom  she  sent  out  to  Los  Angeles.  She  and  her  grand- 
mother are  at  South  Santa  Monica,  living  in  what  sounds 
like  a  sort  of  fairyland  house,  a  tent  with  trellised  roses 
and  heliotrope  covering  it,  up  on  a  hillside,  facing  the 
water  and  the  setting  sun,  and  are  as  happy  as  can  be 
and  hopeful,  and  grateful!  Jennie  does  not  regret  her 
lost  European  trip, 

Midge  is  so  funny  just  now.  Her  hair  has  grown 
again  and  covered  her  bowleggedness  and  hump,  and  she 
is  so  proud.  Has  taken  to  her  old  tricks  of  admiring  her- 
self in  the  glass  by  the  hour,  and  every  afternoon  I  put 

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a  bow  on  her  and  let  her  sit  up  on  a  chair  in  the  glassed- 
in  balcony,  where  she  watches  with  as  much  interest  as 
her  mistress  does  the  comings  and  goings  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

Captain  S.  has  been  twice  more  to  see  me.  She  never 
talks  religion,  in  the  sense  of  theology,  but  only  the  relig- 
ion of  helpfulness,  and  I  enjoy  her  hugely;  and  such 
tales  as  she  has  to  tell.  She  sees  human  nature  at  its 
lowest  depths  as  do  the  settlement  people,  but  she,  as 
they,  brings  such  funds  of  common  sense,  of  tenderness 
and  of  understanding  to  bear  on  all  of  the  problems. 

I  cannot  quite  make  out  how  she  came  to  be  Salvation 
Army,  though.  Possibly  I  shall  hear  some  day.  I  hope 
so.  I  love  to  know  the  whys  and  wherefores  of  things. 

I  laughingly  told  her  one  day  of  my  "menus,"  of 
which  the  workers  have  had  another  lot  printed.  I  call 
them  "How  to  be  nourished  pleasantly  on  next  to  noth- 
ing a  day. ' '  She  was  immediately  interested  and  I  gave 
her  one  of  the  pamphlets  to  take  along.  She  too  finds  it 
a  hard  problem  to  make  the  people  realize  that  much  can 
be  done  with  little,  used  intelligently. 

"The  poor  things  can  go  without,  but  they  have  not 
the  remotest  idea  how  to  make  the  most  of  little,"  she 
said.  "That  is,  the  people  whom  we  reach  and  try  to 
help.  It 's  literally  starve  today  and  tomorrow  and  then, 
if  a  little  windfall  comes,  buy  the  wrong  kind  of  food 
material,  the  dearest  and  most  wasteful." 

She  was  very  amused  with  my  description  of  how  I 
came  to  know  Thirla  and  Ann,  and  over  our  plans  for 
next  year  at  the  Pine  Tree  Farm.  I  can  hardly  believe 
it  possible  that  in  only  four  months  more  I  shall  see 
Thirla,  and  that  Ann,  Thirla  and  I  shall  really  be  togeth- 
er to  spend  long  happy  days.  I  told  Jennie  about  Thir- 
la's  invitation  for  her  to  spend  her  vacation  with  us  and 
she  was  so  delighted. 

I  shall  start  my  new  diary  next  month. 


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